Lessons From a Grateful Veela
by PD31
Summary: Fleur decides that Harry should be rewarded for saving her sister from the lake in the second task.
1. Chapter 1

**Lessons from a Grateful Veela**

 **By PD31**

 **Rating: M**

 **Pairing: Harry Potter/Fleur Delacour**

 **Summary: Fleur decides that Harry should be rewarded for saving her sister from the lake in the second task.**

 **Disclaimer: JK owns the Harry Potter world and all the characters in it; I've just borrowed them for this story.**

* * *

 _Mademoiselle Delacour's bedroom,_

 _Beauxbatons Carriage_

 _Thursday, 24_ _th_ _February 1994_.

Fleur Delacour lay on her bed, deep in thought. She had just said a reluctant _adieu_ to her parents and sister, relieved that little Gabrielle had not been harmed by her ordeal and grateful beyond words to Harry Potter for rescuing her from the Mer-village. Even though people had repeatedly said, after the fact, that Gabbi was never in any danger from the event, she couldn't stop shaking at the thought of never seeing her again, of having failed her so badly.

In the pit of her Grindylow-induced despair suddenly the fourth champion, _the little boy_ she had called him originally, had emerged, clinging tightly to Gabbi and bringing her ashore. Fleur's relief and delight were beyond words at what Harry had done.

Another reason for her thoughts were the effect the day's events had had on her magic; the Veela magic had spiked both from his rescue and from the debt she had believed that she owed him, a debt that no words of the tournament's 'safeguards' for the hostages could erase. The blonde smiled as an idea formed; she had been wrong, Harry was not a _little boy_ but he _was_ a boy, as illustrated by his flustered reaction to the thank you kiss she'd given him on the lakeshore. _He may be a man in some ways_ , Fleur mused, _but maybe I can help him along in some others_.

With tomorrow being Friday the timing was perfect; she would be able to 'look after' him for the whole weekend without causing anyone any problems. The main obstacle to her scheme would be to get him alone in the first place; she didn't particularly want to drag him out of the Great Hall after dinner, as that would set tongues wagging and greatly embarrass him, so instead she thought about talking to him right after his last class, remembering what Madame Maxime had told them earlier in the year, that if they ever wanted to take their meals in the carriage, they would be taken care of. Few students had done that (one or two on occasion, particularly in the days after the Goblet of Fire had spewed forth the four names, some of the more disappointed girls had hidden themselves away for a few days and a couple more had done so after the Yule Ball as they sought to hide from their disastrous or over-amorous dates for a little while) but she felt this coming weekend would be a good opportunity to take advantage of the option of a private dinner.

Fleur thought back on the Wand Weighing ceremony; the boy had been summoned from his Potions class that Friday afternoon. She decided that she would sneak out of her last class early and make her way to the Potions corridor to lie in wait for Harry Potter.

 _Potions Classroom,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

 _Friday, 25_ _th_ _February 1994_.

"'Arry?" The voice caused the infamous Gryffindor trio to turn; Harry Potter peered in the direction that the voice had come from, at first confused but then he smiled as he saw the French champion drop her disillusionment charm and stand before him.

"Hi, Fleur, how are you? How's Gabrielle after the task?"

"She eez very well, zank you," the French girl informed him. She then threw a telling glance at Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, stood a couple of paces behind Harry (they had also stopped at her call). "I was wondering eef I could 'ave a word?"

"Sure," he confirmed; the blonde continued to stare at his companions.

"We'll see you at dinner, Harry," Hermione told him, taking the hint and elbowing Ron none too gently in the stomach to get him to move; the redhead continued to look back, stealing glances at Fleur as she talked with his friend, until Hermione had dragged him out of sight (though Harry and Fleur both heard a loud "ouch" from him, followed by an exasperated " _honestly_ " from Hermione as his knee collided with the wall due to his not looking where he was going).

Harry was smiling at the incident before turning back to the French beauty. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked her.

"Can we go for a walk?" she asked; not waiting for a reply she reached out and took his hand, leading him down the passageway, up the main stairs and out of the school's front door. "I wanted to zank you," she began once they were in the open air, "for saving my seestair. Gabbi eez everysing to me."

"It was nothing," he shrugged modestly, "and you thanked me yesterday."

"Oui, but I was 'oping zat I could do eet again, in a more… personal way?"

The blank look Harry gave her confirmed her supposition. _Yes_ , she told herself, _there is plenty that I can teach him and help him with_. "I also wanted to apologise for ze _leetle boy_ comment; eet was wrong of me."

"Oh that?" he shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it; it's understandable when dealing with someone a few years younger than you. Er… shouldn't we go for dinner soon?" he asked nervously as she led him (still holding his hand) towards the French school's carriage.

"We can 'ave food sent here if we like," she informed him.

"Oh," he mumbled as that argument evaporated; in a slight daze he let his fellow champion lead him into the deserted carriage and up to the top floor.

"An _aventage_ of being a Veela," she explained as she opened the door to the smaller of the two rooms, "a room to myself. Ze allure can… cause problems," she pondered the words carefully.

"I can feel it now," Harry whispered, but Fleur shook her head.

" _Non_ ," she countered, "I am not using eet now, but when I do," she leaned close to him, "you weel know," she breathed. A casual wave of her wand locked the door behind them, further accelerating Harry's heartbeat.

"What would you like to eat?" the Veela asked casually, another lazy flick of her wand cleared the table that stood between the door and her bed; she then used it again to conjure two straight-backed, cushioned dining chairs, one either side of it.

"On a Friday I usually have pork chops and chips but…" the boy stopped talking as a plate materialised in front of him with the requested meal. "Wow," he breathed, causing Fleur's lyrical laughter to drift over him again; she called for and received a chicken salad and the two teenagers sat down to eat.

* * *

"Dessert?" she offered when he had finished, before daintily taking another bite of her chicken.

"If you can make treacle tart appear then…" No sooner had he said the words than a large tart appeared, complete with two dessert forks and interrupting his thoughts.

"Looks like we 'ave to share," his mirthful hostess told him. "Zat weel not be a problem?"

"No, of course not," he assured her.

"Well, thank you," he told her after they had eaten. "It was nice to have dinner away from the crowds, and with such pleasant company."

"Maybe a drink?" she offered before standing up and walking to her trunk, bending over as she reached into it. While her robes were long enough that they barely revealed any bare flesh on her ankles Harry's gaze was drawn higher towards the shapely French derrière that was pointing towards him; the way Fleur was moving it seemed to him as if she was _deliberately_ trying to draw his attention to it. She straightened and turned to him, holding two bottles in front of her chest, drawing the young seeker's eyes to that instead. "You like _Butterbeer, non_?"

"I love it," he confirmed automatically, trying desperately not to start drooling and embarrass himself any more than he was sure he already had done this evening.

"Zen to ze task," she handed him a bottle before touching it with her own, "and to ze 'ero 'oo saved Gabbi."

Harry tried to scoff at the adulation but his eyes were drawn to Fleur's luscious red lips as she spoke and to the hypnotic quality of her voice. He quickly took a swig of his drink, closing his eyes and trying desperately to think of something other than the girl opposite him.

This was difficult as Fleur, for her part, was asking him a lot of questions; she seemed extremely interested in his adventures at school. She had noticed that when she had asked about his early life he had tried to skip over his life outside of school as much as possible, which she chose to respect for now, but also that when he got onto life at Hogwarts he sought to downplay his achievements and his part in the adventures.

"You are too modest," she told him with a smile, before running her tongue around the rim of her butterbeer bottle, smiling inwardly as the act drew Harry's eyes to her tongue. The way his eyes lost focus seemed to confirm that he was fantasising about what else she could do with that tongue. _Soon, my dear, soon you will know just what I can do with it_.

It seemed that Harry could pick up on that particular message as he set his bottle down rather nervously. "Thank you for tonight, Fleur, but I should probably be going soon and let you enjoy your evening."

"But 'Arry, you 'ave not finished your drink," she protested; a defeated Harry picked up the bottle and took another drink as the French girl continued to ask him about his time at Hogwarts; he struggled to explain the events of the previous year as he didn't want to incriminate himself and Hermione in illegal use of a time-turner (she was acting friendly now but would she use the information to try and disqualify him from the tournament? Or to blackmail him into losing? Sure he hadn't wanted to be in it but now he was doing so well after two of the three tasks… Harry could see himself actually _winning_ the thing!) or, more importantly, advertise that he knew where Sirius Black was hiding. He told, though, of his godfather, falsely accused and imprisoned, his escape, the unmasking of the real traitor and how he vanished from a locked room.

Fleur gave an enigmatic smile; like Snape she seemed to be able to use her eyes to bore into his mind, _unlike_ when Snape did it, this was a very pleasant feeling. "I zink you know more zan you are saying, 'Arry, but zat ees usually wise. I 'ope zat one day you weel trust me wiz ze 'ole story." She sat back and, while she didn't look disappointed or upset, Harry felt guilty about not saying anything to her, which stayed him from wanting to head immediately back up to the castle. "Anuzzer drink?" she offered, standing before he could refuse and bending over the trunk, giving him another view of the outline of her spectacular backside.

While butterbeer isn't particularly strong, a second one, along with the proximity of the French beauty, began to have an intoxicating effect on Harry; even without using her allure Fleur could feel him relaxing in her presence. _Good_ , she thought, _we may get our magical night_. The pull of her Veela magic was demanding it of her; she looked to move on to the next stage of her plan.

Whether it was the vibes or her look that was predatory she wasn't quite sure but it certainly had an effect on Harry; he seemed to snap through the fog and again suggest that it was time to bring this pleasant evening to a close.

"But I told you, 'Arry," she countered, walking around the table to him and standing over him, "I wanted to zank you for saving Gabbi."

"You don'…" he began before Fleur's finger covered his lips; she didn't want him saying anything that might cause her magic to reject the debt she owed him; doing things this way, with her magic believing she was repaying him for his actions, would heighten the sensations for her, which in turn would give _him_ more pleasure – and make the experience something that even a master obliviator would struggle to make him ever forget.

"Shh, _mon cher_ ," she chided in a whisper. "Always so modest, but always _so_ brave. As I said, you are not a _leetle boy_ anymore but..," she leaned into him, "wiz my 'elp, you can be a _man_. I can teach you many things. Your first lesson…" she straightened up, stepped back and reached behind her, undoing the clasp on her robes; as she had removed her underwear and slipped it into her pockets while waiting disillusioned outside his classroom, her nude form was revealed as the robes fell to the ground and pooled around her feet, " _ze female form_ ," she concluded, stepping back towards him, taking his hand in hers and leading a stunned, unprotesting Harry, transfixed by her beauty revealed in all its glory, to her bed.

Lust had overtaken Harry's rational mind; it hadn't taken long for Fleur to help him remove his own clothes and she then guided his hands around her body, telling him just how she liked to be touched in all the different places on her body, where his fingers would do the job and the areas more sensitive to his lips or tongue, even the areas where a soft raking with his teeth or even a gentle bite would bring her closer to ecstasy. He had sat there as if petrified at first but gradually adapted to the situation and began to participate in the 'lesson'. Over an hour of patient tuition, from head to toe had shown him every kiss, caress and nibble that he should use on her.

"Eet's time to show me what you've learned, 'Arry," she whispered huskily before she gave him a wicked grin. "Time for your exam. Make love to me."

"What do I get if I pass?" he asked cheekily, having got over the initial shyness now he had spent so much time with the naked girl; she gave another musical laugh.

"Eef you get Outstanding zen you get to take ze exam again," she promised.

Suitably motivated, Harry set to work; he began with the French girls' feet, using his nails to tickle the sensitive soles, gripping her ankles gently but firmly as she tried to squirm. He ignored her toes (she had told him they weren't a sensitive spot for her) and instead pulled her legs apart, kissing his way up one thigh, breathing gently on her centre (something she had told him drove her wild) and back down the other thigh. He crawled up the bed, pausing to deliver another tickling breath and inhale the scent of her growing arousal before throwing her a glance and deliberately licking his lips, which caused the French witch's eyes to widen. He continued to crawl until the teens' heads were level; supporting his weight with one arm he used his right hand to brush her hair away from her face. Looking down their bodies Fleur could see his manhood hanging tantalisingly close, a thread of pre-cum starting to ooze from it; in an attempt to bring the moment forward she arched her back, trying to close the distance between them. Harry chuckled and gently pushed down on her, just below her breasts, forcing her back onto the bed. "All in good time, _ma belle_ ," he whispered into her ear, smirking evilly at her frustrated whimper. He then took the ear lobe between his teeth, tugging on it gently while he flicked the tip of it with his tongue before moving his lips to her cheek then round to her jaw, to the other side of her face and finally into a deep French kiss (amusing himself with the description given his partner). However, being a teenage boy having his first sexual encounter he was never going to last as long as he'd have wanted and jerked a little as he fired a stream of sperm onto her bed sheets.

Fleur noticed this but chose to ignore this, focussing on kissing Harry instead. He gave no indication of embarrassment at what had happened, instead he too looked to deepen the kiss. While doing so his hand moved upwards from her chest to her left breast; he took the nipple between his thumb and index finger the way she had shown him, gently squeezing the nub between them. Fleur gasped against his mouth at the feeling; he broke the kiss and moved to her neck, nipping it before kissing the pulse point, detecting that her pulse was, indeed, racing at this point. With his hand on her left breast his mouth moved to the right, licking, sucking and lavishing attention on it while the Veela writhed beneath him. He gently lowered himself onto the bed, mostly on top of her but not seeking entry with his manhood; instead his freed left hand slipped between Fleur's legs, exploring and savouring her wetness.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly.

She nodded desperately. "Oui, 'Arry, please!"

He lifted himself far enough to position himself; she took his throbbing member and positioned it for entry as he lowered himself again. Fleur groaned as he penetrated her, using her muscles to grip him firmly as he pushed inside.

" _Oui_ , _mon cher_ , _oui_ ," she whispered.

"Fleur," he responded, eyes closed as his own pleasure built.

"'ARRY!" she repeated loudly as her climax finally hit her; after so much teasing and arousing, along with the push from her magic, her orgasm was more intense than any she had experienced before and her whole body shuddered as wave after wave of pleasure emanated from her core. The movement added to Harry's rhythmic thrusts and pushed him over the edge with her; he yelled her name again before slumping on top of her.

"Zat was _magnifique_ ," she commended when she had caught her breath; she had rolled onto her side and while Harry remained inside her his hand was now drawing idle circles on her back. She reached behind her, guiding his hand to her bum and encouraging him to fondle it. She then moved her hand to his butt, gently kneading it as they held one another.

"So I passed?" he joked.

" _Better_ zan Outstanding," she declared, "I zink I weel keep you."

"Keep me?" He raised an eyebrow.

"'Ave you anysing better to do zis weekend?" she asked, kissing him and beginning to thrust her hips.

Instead of trying to reply, Harry simply rolled onto his back so that Fleur was on top of him as his eyes glazed over; his left hand joined his right in exploring her bum. _I didn't think so_ , she smiled to herself as Harry spasmed again as he had his release. _Something else I can help him with_ , the witch thought to herself, though Harry did impress her with enough staying power that she was able to orgasm again before he finally went limp.

* * *

"Tired, _mon cher_?" she asked in a teasing voice an hour later as a panting Harry came down from the high of the third time they'd made love; he was struggling to keep his eyes open. "You need more stamina, _Engleesh boy_ ," she grinned; he chuckled. "Maybe zis will 'elp," and she released a healthy blast of her Veela's allure at him.

Suddenly for Harry nothing else existed; his focus was entirely on this Amazon Goddess before him; pleasing her was all that mattered. He was instantly hard, his sole purpose in life to give as much pleasure as he could to his princess. Aside from that his mind was blank, empty, that one instruction was his entire world.

And then a voice at the back of his mind reminded him of that day in Moody's classroom. _Fight_ , the voice said, _Fight it! You know how_. To Fleur's amazement he stopped reaching towards her and rolled away.

"'Arry?" she asked in concern.

"Your allure," he breathed, "I was able to throw it off completely." He was momentarily excited at the accomplishment before his conscious mind joined the unconscious in making the connection with that altogether less pleasant experience. He scrambled up to his haunches and slowly edged away from her to the side of the bed, dropping to the floor and looking for his clothes.

"'Arry?" she repeated, worry mounting; she brought herself up to her knees in a non-threatening pose, arms by her side but hands outstretched towards him. "What eez eet?"

"Control. Allure. Like… the _Imperious_ curse," he challenged; his mind was foggy and still racing so his words were incoherent but his tone was defiant; he bent down as he finally located his boxers.

"'Arry, seet, please," she patted the bed beside her and looked imploringly at him, stood there, boxers in hand, hesitating. "I weel tell you _everysing_ , I promise, please," she asked in a soft voice while she patted the bed again, smiling with relief as he dropped his shorts again and cautiously returned to the bed. Fleur stretched out into a lying position again, allowing his eyes full access to her nude form; he moved from his seated position to lying next to her, though he made sure to remain a little out of her reach; while disappointed, she accepted it for now, pleased at least that he hadn't fled the room.

"Ze story begeens centuries ago," she began, "ze Veela have long er… used zer powers to entice wizards to mate wiz zem." Seeing the look in his eyes she continued, "eet eez not unusual in ze animal kingdom. Ze peacock has iz bright tail feathers to attract ze female, many bugs do zer mating dances for ze same reason. Even ze muggle women wear make-up and dress nicely to attract ze attention of the boys, _non_?" He was forced to concede the point and nodded his agreement. Fleur then smirked as she continued, "At least we are not ze Black Widow – zey keel zer mate after sex."

"After what we've done tonight I'm sure you could be the death of me if you wanted," a more relaxed Harry joked, shuffling a little closer and placing his hand on her butt.

"I know I could," she agreed with a smile, enjoying the contact, particularly as his fingers wandered over the sensitive flesh, "but I could only keel wiz pleasure and by accident. Anyway, yes, Veela use zer allure to attract a mate but eet is… 'ow you say, symbiotique?" (Harry made a note to ask Hermione what that meant) "Ze Veela got mates and offspring, ze wizards – zey lost control for a leetle while but zey got _a lot_ of pleasure from eet, and were never 'armed in any way."

Harry couldn't dispute that; he'd certainly derived more pleasure than he'd ever felt before from their encounter, and that was even before the allure had hit him.

"But for many, _many_ years ze Veela had to leeve away from ze towns and villages, zey had to entice a male wiz zer allure to keep ze species from dying out. Ze boys would be wizards, ze girls Veela but ze boys… around so many Veela when zey come into zair powers at puberty, eet was _difficile_ and many duels were fought between ze boys so more men were needed to keep ze population going. So generation after generation 'ad ze same problems and, of course, enticing males made zem _tres_ unpopular wiz ze witches of ze villages. Zat was when we 'ad to defend ourselves with our transformation and fireballs," she explained. "To protect us from un'appy witches who were 'unting us, trying to keel all Veela zey could find."

She sighed. "Eventually somesing changed and zey were able to join ze villages, zough zere was steel mistrust from ze women, ze Veela would attract ze 'ealthiest men, which displaced ze witches. Zere was peaceful coexistence, zough, for _many_ years until ze Darkness came." She shivered; Harry edged even closer and pulled her into his arms; she nestled next to him, hand roaming over his chest and down between his legs as she continued. "Ze dark wizards – zey and ze witches put powerful sleeping draughts into ze Veelas' drinks; zey were taken away to a nearby cave and 'studied'," she wrinkled her nose in disgust at her distant ancestors being treated like laboratory animals. "Eventually zese wizards discovered 'ow to use ze magic be'ind ze allure, zey worked out 'ow to use eet to control ozzer people, to make zem do whatever zey wanted zem to."

"The _Imperious_ curse," Harry stated.

"Oui," she confirmed. "Zey took ze Veelas' greatest treasure, ze way to bring untold pleasure to our mate, to geev ze most beautiful time to both wizard and Veela and zey turned it into a way to make someone do _whatever_ zey want, to turn zem into slaves. Ze allure was never about _enslaving_ but was to give ze greatest sexual experience to ze male. Eet eez why ze curse weel not work on a Veela; eet eez a corruption of our own magic so we can repel eet." She propped herself up on an elbow; her blue eyes gazed deeply into his green. "Now zat you know, 'ow do you feel?"

He forced himself to look away from his beautiful lover so he could formulate an answer. "The way you explained it," he began, "the Veela were victims and they don't look to use it for their own ends – like you said there are… benefits for the man under its influence."

"Oui, and for us too, not just ze men," he heard her confirm, "or eef zey prefer, maybe a witch," she added with a small grin; his brain was racing so much with the evening's events that he was unable to process that comment at that time.

"I can see that they're different things, that one is used for the caster's own ends and one is a part of what makes you you; I just have this _thing_ about being controlled, about people _using_ me. That's why it bothered me."

"I can understand that, _mon cher_ ," she told him sympathetically; then she leaned in close and breathed in his ear, "but trust me, eet would make a good time even better." Then she kissed him, kissed him again and pushed him onto his back, rolling on top of him. "Let go, 'Arry," she urged him, "surrender your control to me, just for tonight," Harry did so; he closed his eyes and allowed the allure to overwhelm his conscious mind, ignoring the implorings from the back of his mind to fight it as they made love again. Fleur was correct, it was even better than what had gone before.

 _Saturday 26_ _th_ _February 1994_.

Harry awoke to the oddest sensation; feather-light kisses were peppering his face while his side was being tickled. He also seemed to be naked which was unusual. His eyes snapped open and even his eyesight could drink in the blonde witch draped over him; his mind flew back to the previous night, to his 'lessons', to everything he had experienced.

"Bonjour Fleur," he greeted her with a smile.

"'Ello 'Arry," she replied, planting a dainty kiss on his lips now that he was awake. "'Ow did you sleep?"

"Very well," he admitted, "the best night's sleep I've had in a long time."

"Ah, I seenk I wore you out," she laughed.

"You definitely did," he confirmed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her chest onto his as they kissed again. "I think we need some breakfast," he added as his stomach grumbled.

" _Mais oui,_ " she agreed before turning to the room in general. "Elf?" she called. A second later, breakfast for two was waiting on the table.

"Oh, I was thinking I'd have to go to the Hall; Ron and Hermione will be wondering where I am," he observed.

"Maybe you can send zem a message?" she suggested, leaning over (and pressing her breasts against him even more) to pick up some parchment from the floor. This ended any argument he may have wanted to make; Fleur handed him the paper and a quill before getting out of bed long enough to pick up the tray and bring it over to the bed, balancing it on both of them.

He scribbled a quick note. "Really?" she asked as she read it. He crossed out the last word, changing it. "Better," she noted approvingly before Harry struggled to sign it as she began another teasing assault on his senses, using her teeth to pull at his ear lobe and her hand to fondle his manhood.

"Ok," he squawked, "I'm done. Elf?" he asked cautiously, "could you show yourself please?" One of the Hogwarts House Elves popped into view, seemingly oblivious to what the teens were up to; Harry held out the parchment. "Could you take this to Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger please?" he asked as he wriggled at Fleur's antics. "They'll be at the Gryffindor table." The Elf snapped its fingers and disappeared along with his note.

"Now for breakfast; you need your energy for today's class," she told him coyly. "I expect another Outstanding."

"I wouldn't want to disappoint my favourite teacher." His reply sent Fleur into peals of laughter again, a sound he felt he would never tire of hearing.

 _Great Hall,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"Ronald, will you stop eating for one minute?" Hermione demanded hotly.

"What? I'm hungry," he protested.

"Harry wasn't at dinner yesterday, we didn't see him last night, he wasn't in your dorm this morning and he's not here for breakfast. In fact nobody's seen him since Fleur wanted a few words with him after Potions. Aren't you at all worried?"

At that moment a piece of parchment appeared between them; Hermione snatched it up and read it.

 _Ron and Hermione, I just wanted to send you a note to tell you not to worry about me, I'm fine, just having a couple of quiet days to recover from the task in the lake. I'll see you in class on_ _Tuesday if not before._

 _Monday_ had been crossed out and replaced with Tuesday, she noted. The message was followed by a scrawl that may have tried to have been _Harry_ but didn't really look like anything to the bushy-haired girl.

"See Hermione? Nothing to worry about," Ron told her as he turned his attention back to the mountain of food on his plate. Hermione huffed, looking around the hall; curiously Fleur wasn't visible among the Beauxbatons contingent.

 _Mademoiselle Delacour's bedroom,_

 _Beauxbatons Carriage_

"'Ave you ever 'ad breakfast nude before?" Fleur asked, curiously, delighting at the way it made Harry blush. She had nonchalantly walked from the bed to the table without dressing, eyeing him with an inviting, inquiring gaze as she sat down. He reasoned that there was little point in dressing in front of her, after everything they'd done the previous evening and what she had promised for the rest of the weekend, but he still felt a little awkward about it, though, he realised, not as awkward as he'd have felt getting dressed to eat breakfast opposite a naked girl.

"No, I don't think the professors would be too happy if I showed up in the buff," he joked.

"Ah, but ze girls in ze 'all, zey would love eet," she teased, smiling as he reddened further; he ignored her and turned to his breakfast.

"You were right, you know," Harry observed between bites of his meal, "surrendering to your allure made…" his blush was now crimson, radiating heat as he continued, " _the sex_ even better."

"Zat ees ze Veela magic," she nodded calmly.

"The Veela's phenomenal beauty helps too," he added; to his disappointment Fleur seemed incapable of blushing.

It seemed as if Fleur had read his mind; she looked steadily at him and noted, "You cannot embarrass a Veela, _mon cher_ , 'eet ees impossible."

"A challenge, I like it," he grinned, raising his cup of pumpkin juice. Fleur just smiled and shook her head, not wanting to discourage him and also curious as to what he would actually say and do. _All part of his education_ , she mused.

"Fleur?" he asked as they finished breakfast. "Can you use your allure on me so I can practice throwing it off? I want to make sure I can totally resist the _Imperious_ and I think that would help me to do it," his tone was serious as he met her eyes.

"Well today's class schedule was already quite full," she grinned at him; it fell a little as she saw how serious he was, "but we can definitely do zat zis weekend."

"Thank you." Then it was his turn to smirk. "I promise to surrender to it at least once today as well."

" _At least_?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "I like ze sound of zat. Now," she stood and offered him her hand, "'ow about a shower?" Understanding what she was suggesting he readily took her hand and let her lead him to her en suite.

"Do you want to try and throw eet off?" she asked as the water cascaded over them; Fleur had a bar of soap in her hand and was lathering his body, which was responding to her every touch and caress.

"I don't think I could fight _anything_ off right now," he admitted, reciprocating with his own soap, taking his time and making sure to soap up every inch of her exquisite skin.

"I 'oped zat would be ze case," Fleur breathed, closing her eyes and flooding his senses with her allure. Animal instincts overtook Harry and he pinned her against the wall, entering her and pushing himself as far in as he could go. She winced at the sudden domination he was showing, having never used her allure at its full power on a boy before, but as it poured over her as well she soon relaxed into the frenzied sex. She retained sufficient presence of mind to redirect the shower's spray so that it continued to cover them, the droplets feeling like hot kisses and caresses as they cascaded over her hypersensitive flesh, rinsing away the soap lather from their bodies. The combined sensations soon pushed her to orgasm (shortly after Harry, though she knew that he would be able to keep going for as long as she kept up her allure.)

"Zat… was… amazing," she panted as they stepped out of the shower; had it not been for her Veela magic she was sure her knees would be wobbling, Harry's too.

"Was I too rough?" he asked fearfully; the magic now leaving his system and giving him the sexual equivalent of a sugar crash. "I'm sorry, Fleur, it just happened, I don't know what…"

"Shh," her finger covered his lips again. " _Zat_ was my allure at full power. _Zat_ was what came over you. I trusted you wiz eet and I was right to, _mon cher_. You are _magnifique_ ," and she sealed it with a searing kiss before handing him a towel.

He took her by surprise by using the towel to dry _her_ , wiping the water gently from her body, tickling her with the soft, fluffy towel and spending plenty of time with her breasts and bum. When he was done she eagerly returned the favour, bringing Harry close to the brink again before leaving him hanging, groaning in sexual frustration as she led him back to her bed.

"'Arry, do you trust me?" she asked earnestly.

"Completely," he admitted, realising as he did that if she asked he would now spill his guts about e _verything_ from last year, Sirius, Buckbeak, the time turner, _all of it_.

"Good," she smiled.

Harry Potter discovered at that moment that, despite being a wizard, the boy-who-lived, the youngest seeker in a century and everything else that made him unusual, just sometimes he _could_ be a regular guy. What caused that was his reactionary flinch as she Fleur pointed her wand directly at his nether regions. "Don't worry," she chuckled, firing a charm from her wand to his; he immediately felt a strange sensation down there, despite the amount of blood his body was firing to the area he felt _numb_ almost.

"Eet ees just a numbing charm," she confirmed with a sultry smile, "eet weel 'elp you to last longer until you learn to do zat for yourself."

After a couple of seconds processing this he matched her grin. "Shall we try it out?" he asked innocently.

"I 'ave created a monster," she laughed, but pulled him on top of her.

* * *

"Again," he urged, after a quick shake of his head to clear it.

Fleur closed her eyes, pushing her allure further. Harry's eyes glazed over with the now now-familiar feeling of emptiness in his conscious mind. The unconscious voice at the back of his mind began as a whisper but strengthened as it urged him to fight, despite his consciousness telling him to give his body, his soul, his _everything_ to Fleur. He felt himself leaning towards her, though he fought with everything he had to not do so. The Veela was pouring everything she could into her allure and watched as Harry's lips inched closer and closer to her own before stopping tantalisingly short of them. He sat stock-still for a few seconds, face contorted with concentration before she decided to cheat, reaching out and taking his manhood in her hand; this broke his resolve and he crashed his lips against hers. She wrapped her other arm around him and continued to kiss him, closing her eyes and letting her allure fall again. Harry pulled away from her involuntarily (though he couldn't go far given she had his member in one hand and her arm around his back).

"I lost again," he sighed despondently, looking into her brilliant blue eyes.

"I 'ad to cheat," she consoled him, tugging gently on him. His eyes widened as he realised where her hand was and what it was doing.

"Doesn't matter; Death Eaters won't play fair." He extricated himself from her, returning to his starting position. "Again?"

"Non, later," she declined. "I need to rest before I can use eet again and you need to rest too. We should eat first."

Fleur could tell that it was bothering him by the way Harry picked at his dinner. "Do not worry, _mon cher_ ," she encouraged him, "eet ees impossible for you to srow off ze allure at its full power; you managed it at close to full power for a long time before I cheated. Eef someone tries to control you, you weel resist."

He smiled his gratitude and began to eat with renewed enthusiasm.

 _Sunday, 27_ _th_ _February 1994_

While by Sunday night Harry could still not throw off Fleur's allure on full blast (especially when she 'cheated' as well) he could now do so comfortably when she used anything less than full power; Fleur was thrilled (nobody is supposed to be able to resist a Veela's allure, she had explained, unless they truly love another with all their heart – not a situation that applies to many fourteen year olds, if any). He was exhausted, despite having never left the bedroom other than to use the en suite all weekend and Fleur was rather weary as well, though she was delighted with her student's progress over the last couple of days, both the physical side and also the mental; she loved teasing him and he was happy to give as good as he got, though he _still_ couldn't get the French beauty to blush (she continued to insist that it was impossible, he continued to work to find a way).

"Fleur," he told her as they cuddled, basking in the after-glow of their latest bout of love-making, "this has been… amazing, incredible, mind-blowing. The… the sex we've had has been just… beyond anything I could ever have imagined. I can't believe how good it's been, and I can't imagine _ever_ feeling this good again."

"Ah, 'Arry," she pulled him closer, "first I should say _merci_ for ze compliment. But do not worry; ze raw physical side may not be as good with anuzzer but… when you are truly, deeply in love wiz someone – _zen_ ze love-making will feel even better zan zis 'as."

His eyes widened before swimming out of focus. "I can't even _begin_ to imagine how that would feel then," he told her, to her amusement.

 _Monday, 28_ _th_ _February 1994_.

"'Arry, we need to get up," she told him sadly. "We 'ave classes shortly."

"Don't wanna," he mumbled groggily against her breast; realising what he was resting against he took it between his lips and began to suck on it.

"'Arry," she groaned, "you 'ave to stop zat or we weel never leave ze bed!"

"Good," he mumbled before returning to lavishing attention on her nipple.

Fleur sighed and picked her wand up from her bedside table; she let him suckle for a few more seconds before delivering a gentle stinging hex to his bare bottom, causing him to cease his ministrations and jump violently.

"Fleur!" he complained.

"We 'ave to get up, _mon cher_ ," she repeated regretfully. "Come on, let us 'ave breakfast 'ere and zen go. Ze elves weel breeng you clean clothes." No sooner had she spoken then breakfast, a clean uniform and clean robes for Harry appeared in the room; the things he'd worn on Friday disappeared to be laundered (he would find them neatly folded by his bed the next time he was in his dormitory).

"I don't want to leave," he complained as they finished breakfast. "This whole weekend, the experience, everything about it has been amazing, the best time of my life. Thank you Fleur."

"You're _very_ welcome, _mon cher_ ," she told him sincerely. Truth be told she wasn't looking forward to going back to sleeping alone. "You 'ave been a fantastique student. Maybe we can 'ave a _revision class_ before ze end of ze year, non?"

Harry wore a wide smile. " _Definitely_ ," he agreed.

"Now, get dressed, you need to go to class."

"Do I _have_ to? I could happily spend the whole day in bed." When she raised her eyebrows he hurriedly added, "I meant to sleep. I've not had much sleep here, not that I'm complaining."

"Maybe I can 'elp wiz zat too," she mused, closing her eyes and bleeding out a little of her magic. Suddenly Harry felt refreshed; he gave her a questioning look. "Part of ze Veela magic," she explained, "to 'elp our mates we can give zem more energy."

"That makes a lot of sense," he nodded.

"Indeed," she grinned, "it would not do to keel zem in ze act."

Harry dressed and stood by the door. Thinking that she could read his thoughts Fleur tried to reassure him. "Don't worry, everyone ees at breakfast; zere weel be nobody to see us leave here togezzer."

Harry wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not; he surprised the girl by taking her hand and they walked together across the courtyard and into the school until they reached the main staircase; the hallway was deserted as classes had just started.

"I must leave you now," Fleur told him regretfully; her class was in a different direction. Harry pulled her into his arms and initiated a deep, passionate kiss.

"I can never thank you enough for this weekend, Fleur," he told her sincerely.

"And _I_ can never zank _you_ enough for saving Gabbi," she retorted, giving him a quick peck on the lips, wanting to prolong contact with him for as long as possible.

"I'll see you at lunch, I guess," he said sadly; they reluctantly pulled apart and Fleur watched him go, stealing glances as he ascended the staircase.

 _The one you love will be a lucky lady, my dear_ , Fleur thought with a small smile as she finally took her eyes from him and headed to Potions; she knew Snape would be grumpy as she had arrived late, she also knew that he and Harry didn't get on so upsetting the sallow-skinned grouch was something she could definitely live with.

 _History of Magic Classroom_ ,

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"Where have you BEEN?" Hermione demanded as he casually took the seat next to her (Ron was on her other side and suddenly jerked out of his stupor at Hermione's question and Harry's reappearance). Binns was already droning on and most of the class were getting an extra hour of sleep. The bushy-haired witch set her quill down and glared at her newly-arrived friend.

"Good morning Hermione," he greeted her idly.

"That's all you've got to say?" she whispered hotly.

"No but it's usually a polite start," he retorted; Hermione wasn't in the mood to have him try and teach her manners though.

"You were gone _all weekend_. All we got was a note saying you were relaxing after the task. Nothing about where, what you were doing. We were worried about you," she gave Ron a gentle punch to encourage his confirmation. He nodded reluctantly.

"Yeah, mate, we haven't seen you since your talk with Fleur."

Harry's face betrayed no emotion at his lover's name. "We hung out for a bit, talked a bit, even had dinner together on Friday. I think we both needed to talk about the task and what went on in the lake. She said she needed to thank me for rescuing her sister."

"Well where were you for the rest of the time?" the witch demanded.

"I told you, rest and recuperation after the task."

Much to Hermione's annoyance, Harry refused to go into any more details.

* * *

"Fleur!" Hermione had followed her out of the Great Hall after dinner and caught up with her as she was walking back to the carriage (Harry hadn't noticed as he was talking to Ron; by agreement he and Fleur had merely acknowledged one another in the Hall the way he did Cedric or Krum as fellow champions).

"'Ermi-knee, _oui?_ 'Arry's friend but ze sing Viktor would mees ze most? Interesting combination, _non_?" she greeted her dismissively.

"I want to know what happened after you and Harry talked on Friday," she demanded, brushing her comments off. "I want _your_ side of what you were doing all weekend."

Fleur felt a little put out at Hermione's words; in truth she supposed she couldn't be _too_ surprised that Harry had bragged to his friends, but she had hoped that he'd had more decorum and hoped he'd been respectful to her at least.

"We 'ad a nice talk, a nice dinner and I sanked 'eem for rescuing Gabbi," she explained casually, not going into the details of exactly _how_ she had thanked him.

"And that took all weekend?"

"I owed 'eem a _great_ deal," she replied. "'ee was 'appy to let me zank 'eem."

"I'll bet," Hermione spat. "So what _really_ happened? You used your allure and had him drooling like an imbecile? I'd have thought that would get boring rather fast, certainly by Friday night."

"Please, 'Ermi-nee," she countered, "'e could srow off my allure on Friday night. Eef 'e 'ad wanted to leave my bed before Monday, 'e could 'ave done so at any time over ze weekend."

"What? You? Harry? Bed? Weekend?" the bushy-haired witch stumbled over her words; Fleur's heart was warmed that Harry hadn't been bragging to everyone, though she now realised that she herself had let the cat out of the bag.

"Hmm," the French champion grinned, "eet seems zat you do not know 'Arry as well as you zink you do." Her smirk took on wicked qualities as she leaned closer to Hermione and added in a low voice, "at least, not as well as _I_ know 'eem, _non_?" Seeing the English girl's scowl, Fleur's smile only widened. "Ahh, eet looks like someone ees jealous," she taunted before edging even closer to the girl and dropping her voice further, now to barely more than a whisper. "Ze question ees, are you jealous of me, or 'eem?" she asked before stepping back. "Or maybe both?" she finished with a small shrug before throwing the fourth year witch a rather scathing look, turning on her heel and walking away from her, leaving a stunned and increasingly irate Hermione Granger behind; snapping out of it the brunette tore off in search of the boy who lived.

* * *

 **AN: And there, gentle reader, we must leave this story. It is intended to just be a one-shot so I'm happy to leave it here and invoke 'death of an author' allowing all of you to decide in your own imagination how things turned out from here. Maybe the Harmony shippers think Hermione chases after Harry to tear a strip off him before asking him to share what he's just learned? Or you might like to think a newly self-confident Harry meets up with his team's chasers for a bit of Quidditch-themed fun. The wonderful thing at this point is your own imagination can run wild. I DO know how it turns out (and will write it if there's demand for it) but otherwise you can all draw your own conclusions from where we are now.**

 **I hope you all enjoyed reading this and didn't find Fleur's Franglais too difficult to understand (and personally I think she exaggerated her accent a little knowing a lot of men find the French accent sexy); just try reading it in a French accent and hopefully it will make sense.**

 **Reviews are always welcome; thank you for reading. PD**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, just wow. A HUGE thank you to everyone who read and reviewed Chapter 1, encouraging me to continue the telling of this story and to show where it goes. I HAD hoped to finish it by now but it's turned out to be longer than I anticipated, so I tried to find a reasonably natural break in it. Here is the second installment for you all.  
**

* * *

Chapter 2

 _Hogwarts School Grounds_

 _Monday, 28_ _th_ _February 1994_.

Hermione hugged herself as she looked around the dark, chilly grounds; her ire could only warm her for so long in the bleak, wintry weather as she hunted her prey. Finally she spotted his silhouette, near the shore of the Black Lake, and stormed towards him.

"Harry!" she cried as she approached him; he jumped violently at her shout and turned to face her.

"Oh, hi Hermione," she noticed as she approached, and her eyes adjusted to the darkness, that he still wore a rather goofy grin.

"I've been looking for you since the end of class. Aren't you could standing out here?"

"I hadn't noticed," he replied honestly.

"Hmph, I suppose _she_ did that to you," the girl snarked.

Harry looked questioningly at her but said nothing. Hermione conjured some of her bluebell flames in an effort to warm herself; they also supplied enough light for her to glare at him properly, though Harry had to close his eyes due to the rapid increase in the light level.

"Fleur told me what you two did all weekend," she added hotly.

"Really?" he opened his eyes in surprise, immediately regretting having done so as the fire-light stung them; he wasn't ashamed of the weekend's activity but didn't particularly want it broadcasting all over the school – and hadn't expected that Fleur would do that.

"Yes, she _may_ have thought that you already told me," the bushy-haired witch added guiltily.

Harry turned to face her, eyes beginning to adapt to the light. "What's bothering you, Hermione?" he asked.

" _You slept with her!_ " she hissed.

"And?" he countered. "I don't regret that it happened, if that's what you think I should be feeling."

"It's just…" she bit her lip and pondered her arguments, "you're fourteen! She's seventeen! She seduced you and you're standing here thinking that it was normal."

Harry held her gaze; she shivered at the piercing look despite the warming fire she had created. "Come on," he told her, tapping her arm and together they began to walk back towards the school, talking quietly as they did; she held the flames in front of them, lighting and warming their path. "You're right, she _did_ start the whole thing and was _extremely_ persuasive," his eyes lost focus for a moment as he stared off into the distance, smiling all over his face. Hermione frowned at his loss of focus and clicked her fingers impatiently in front of his face until he turned back to her. "Sorry," he apologised. "But she didn't do _anything_ I didn't want her to – even when she used her allure on me during the weekend it was with my permission. The whole weekend was brilliant, Hermione, and I wouldn't change a second of it, really. _Please_ don't try to spoil it for me."

She bowed her head at his words; it hadn't occurred to her that he could actually be feeling that way about it.

"I just don't want people talking about you, calling you the _boy who sleeps with Veela_ or something," Hermione was thankful for the cover of darkness hiding most of her furious blush.

"Better than always being the boy who lived," he reasoned glumly uttering his nickname, "at least this is something I achieved on my own merits, can remember and am actually proud of." Hermione stubbed her toe on the ground at his declaration; the loss of concentration as a result caused her flames to disappear, though looking up she could see they were now just outside the school's main door and light was no longer an issue. A few students were wandering around but paid them no heed. "Look, Hermione," he sighed, taking her hands between his, "you're my best friend and I'll be forever grateful to you, that you were with me all year, when the rest of the school wasn't, when they all thought I cheated my way into the tournament and shunned me, made those stupid badges, mocked me and all the rest of it. You helped me to train for the first task, which probably saved my life, tried to help me with the second task too and I can _never_ tell you how thankful I am for everything you've done," he put his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, much to her surprise as he hadn't been particularly tactile before his weekend at Fleur's; she was quick to reciprocate though, "but please," he pulled back far enough to look her in the eye, "please, don't try and get in the middle of Fleur and me, whatever may be going on with us."

The girl in his arms was silent for a couple of seconds before utterly surprising him when she started to giggle. "Uh, Hermione?" he asked, slightly concerned at her unexpected reaction; she reluctantly disentangled herself from his embrace and smiled at him. "Sorry, Harry, just what you said reminded me of when I spoke to Fleur. She…" Hermione went red again, this time it was very obvious to him as they were now inside of the school, "when I went to confront her, she sort of suggested that that was exactly what I wanted to do… get _in the middle_ of you two."

Harry pondered her words for a couple of seconds before understanding what she was getting at and losing all control; he burst out laughing, Hermione joining in seconds later, to the perplexed amusement of the students walking past them. The two friends felt all would be well between them in time since they could still laugh together.

"Have you eaten yet?" she asked him; he shook his head. "Come on then, let's go before they finish. You _know_ Ron will still be there," she giggled again, putting an arm round his waist and guiding him into the Great Hall. Neither were surprised that, as usual, she was correct.

That night, as he got ready for bed, his other male year-mates Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas all wanted to know where he'd been all weekend; he stuck to the story of having dinner with Fleur and spending the rest of the time recovering from the task while inwardly regretting that he didn't want to embarrass Fleur by broadcasting what they'd done; _boy who shagged a Veela_ was a pretty cool nickname, he decided. The other boys turned to Ron to get the full story; to their surprise he parroted Harry's version, which was all he'd been told.

 _Great Hall,_

 _Wednesday, 2_ _nd_ _March 1994_.

"Hermione," Harry sighed as his friend glared across the room at the Ravenclaw table; he glanced over to see the object of her ire. Fleur's look switched from bored indifference when she looked at Hermione to a warm smile when she caught Harry looking in her direction. She gave him a little wave before briefly smirking at the witch by his side then turning her attention to her plate and talking with her schoolmates.

"I'm trying, Harry, really I am, it's just…" she began apologetically before groaning in frustration, "she bothers me. She was just _so_ condescending to me when we talked on Monday," she threw a nervous glance at Ron; thankfully the redhead remained typically clueless.

"Did she have good reason?" he asked slyly; Hermione looked affronted so he added, "Let's be honest, Hermione, you can be a little… headstrong on occasion," he finished delicately.

"You mean bossy and overbearing?" she smiled.

"I wasn't going to say that," he chuckled, "but maybe because you're nearly always right you don't take kindly to people disagreeing with you. Fleur's _not_ a bad person," he insisted; Hermione dropped her gaze to the table. "Actually," he lowered his voice; her head snapped up to look at him, "I'm hoping to see her again."

Hermione frowned at his disclosure; she wasn't happy (as she still didn't particularly like the French witch) but if she made Harry happy then maybe she would have to learn to live with her.

"Have you decided what you're going to do about that?" she asked.

 _Thursday, 3_ _rd_ _March 1994_.

"Fleur?" Harry asked as the Beauxbatons witch was leaving the Great Hall; he had rapidly finished his desert and got up from the Gryffindor table to speak to her before she left, leaving Ron to look questionably at Hermione, who was eyeing Harry carefully, unsure what he was doing.

"Yes, 'Arry?" she asked; she saw her young lover quail a bit and realised that some of her classmates had stopped as well. "Can you give us some space?" she asked them in French, "probably tournament and champion stuff, maybe he has a message for me."

The French contingent nodded and left the Hall. "Now, you were saying?" she prompted.

Harry gathered up his Gryffindor courage and was prepared to ask what he wanted to, but didn't want to do it in _quite_ so public a place; he gestured to her to leave the dining area and they found a deserted corridor. "I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go with me to Hogsmeade this weekend."

"Really? You want us to go togezzer?" she asked in surprise, not expecting that he wanted a _public_ relationship. He nodded. "Like a _date_?" she sought clarification; he swallowed awkwardly before nodding again to confirm it. "I zought you would go with your friends, Ron and 'Ermi-nee?"

"Well I'll meet them at some point," he agreed, "but I want to go with _you_."

Fleur smiled at the young man who had been growing up all year; she could feel her magic drawing her towards him (and was admitting to herself that she scarcely needed its push) but couldn't resist teasing him a little to see just how well he was doing. "Maybe you want a _revision class_ zis weekend, _non_?" she asked mirthfully.

Harry suddenly began to study his shoes as his cheeks darkened. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought of it," he admitted. "In fact…" he had turned the shade of crimson she now found adorable on him, "I've not been able to think of much else this week."

Realising she'd pushed him too far, Fleur swooped down on him and pulled him into her arms. "Oh, _mon cher_ , do not be embarrassed about eet. I am _flattered_ zat you sink of me so much," she assured him. "Eet ees perfectly natural, especially after ze first time you made love wiz someone, zat you sink of zem often." She _could_ have added that she'd been thinking of that weekend a lot herself but opted against it for now. The words she _had_ used cheered him up a little; a gentle finger on his chin was sufficient to encourage him to meet her eyes again and he was relieved to see that she was smiling and her eyes were full of genuine humour – and mischief. "Ok," she surrendered theatrically, the hand left his chin and dramatically covered her forehead, "I weel go wiz you to 'Ogsmeade so zat you can try and get into my knickers in ze evening," she finished with a wicked smirk.

Happy that she was just teasing him, relieved that she wasn't angry and pleased that not only had she not laughed in his face but actually agreed to go with him, Harry was in the mood to give some back to her; he thought back to that wonderful previous weekend and the perfect response came to mind, "I didn't realise you wore knickers, Fleur," he observed innocently; she threw back her head and laughed, pleased that he had shed his embarrassment so quickly and provided a witty comeback.

"Only for you, _mon cher_ ," she smiled; she really _was_ helping him to mature – and liked what she was seeing.

"Actually," he disclosed, after checking to see that they were still alone, "as well as spending time with you, what I _really_ wanted to do was to show you that I _do_ trust you, and to let you in on my big secret." Fleur raised her eyebrows. "You'll find out on Saturday," he told her.

"Intriguing…" she commented thoughtfully before realising that most of the students had left (including her schoolmates). "I should get back to ze carriage but weel see you in ze 'all tomorrow."

"Would you like me to walk you back?" he offered her his arm; she was a little surprised that he was willing to be open with whatever fledgling relationship they could have but nodded; with a smile she looped her arm through his.

The two of them leaving the school was the sight that greeted Ron and Hermione as they left the Great Hall.

"Where's Harry going with Fleur?" Ron asked.

"It looks like he's walking her to her carriage," Hermione observed, torn between concern for her friend given her own dislike of the girl and the major differences (age, nationality, Fleur being a Veela) between them on the one hand and approval of his newfound maturity on the other, thinking it was a sweet gesture that she wouldn't have thought him capable of a few weeks ago. She vowed to herself that she would support him, even if it meant being nicer to Fleur.

"Zank you for walking me 'ome, my leetle gentleman," Fleur teased him gently as they reached the door of the carriage; Harry again took his courage in both hands and leaned in, planting a quick peck on the blonde's lips before wishing her goodnight and stepping back. She lingered for a moment, savouring the feel of his kiss before opening the door, giving him a quick wave and stepping inside.

* * *

Fleur smiled in her sleep as she fell, laughing, onto a snow-white, soft bed. Her dream-self closed her eyes as her lover's hands roamed over her unclothed body; his lips teased and tantalised her flesh and he plunged himself inside her, causing a pink glow to penetrate her closed eyelids as they became one.

"'Arry!" she cried as she woke from the dream with a start, sitting up even before she realised that her hand was between her legs; the pink glow had receded by the time she looked down at the bed and the room was pitch black save for a sliver of the moonlight around the curtains that covered her room's window. The shiver that ran through her was only partly due to the cool, night air against her bare breasts. She hadn't expected to end up dreaming about him when she had invited the youngest champion to her bed; one of the reasons that she had agreed to go on a date with him had been the sudden realisation that the thought of him using what he'd learned on another girl seemed less and less appealing to her the more she considered it. Unaware that the glow had _actually_ happened, and trying to put the dream down to the thought of their upcoming Hogsmeade 'date' and 'revision class', Fleur tried to put Harry from her mind as she lay back down, pulled the bedsheet up to her neck, rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

 _4_ _th_ _year boys' dormitory, Gryffindor Tower,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"Ron!" The ginger Lion heard the frantic whisper from Neville as the round-faced boy shook him urgently back to consciousness.

"What?" he asked groggily; he had been enjoying his dream of playing keeper for the Chudley Cannons.

"Look at Harry's bed; do you think he's ok?"

"I don't hear anything," the sleepy boy mumbled stupidly.

"I know _that_ ," Neville shot back, "it looks like he's put up some sort of sound=proofing charm."

Ron looked over and scrambled up his bed into a sitting position with a yelp; a soft blue glow emanated from his best friend's bed while the curtains, which had been drawn, were shaking more than a little, as if Harry was thrashing around on his bed.

"HARRY!" Ron yelled, suddenly wide awake; there was no reply so he stumbled out of bed and tried to open the curtains hiding his best friend, only to see them fixed as if with a sticking charm.

Harry would be thankful of the sound-proofing and sticking charms Hermione had taught him to put on the curtains of his bed; originally he had used them for privacy and to ensure his dorm-mates' snores didn't interfere with his sleep, now they were preventing the four spectators (Dean and Seamus were also awake and watching his bed with some concern) from hearing him wake himself up by screaming Fleur's name as he came.

He sat breathlessly on his bed, drenched in sweat and realised that the curtains were moving; the glow had disappeared and he was completely unaware that it had even happened. He cancelled the sound-proofing charm and heard his male best friend shouting, "Harry, are you alright?"

"Yes, Ron, I'm fine," he replied as his breathing came under control. "Hang on, I'll just open the curtain." After making sure he was well covered and there was no evidence of what he'd been doing in his sleep, Harry lifted the sticking charm as well before opening the curtains.

"What happened?" Ron demanded. "We woke up and your whole bed seemed to shaking and there was this blue glow like you'd cast a _lumos_ charm through a blue… something," he trailed off embarrassedly as his analogy fell spectacularly flat; Ron's ears began to turn red as Seamus and Dean sniggered at his fail.

"Intense dream," he replied, not wanting to go into details, "that was what caused the thrashing anyway. I don't know what caused the glow, must have been some accidental magic or something."

"Are you sure you're ok, Harry?" Neville asked nervously.

"Yes, I'm fine, thanks guys," he told them sincerely.

The night's excitement over, the boys returned to their own beds; Harry put his glasses back on his bedside table, closed his curtains and recast the charms before lying back down.

"Now, _mademoiselle Delacour_ ," he declared with a smile as he closed his eyes, "where were we?"

 _Great Hall,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,_

 _Saturday, 5_ _th_ _March 1994_.

Harry sat nervously through breakfast, continually looking over at the Ravenclaw table where Fleur was sitting with the other Beauxbatons students; his listlessness was getting on the nerves of his female best friend.

"Will you _stop_ fidgeting?" Hermione demanded in an annoyed voice.

"Sorry," he apologised, "I'm just nervous about this. I've never been on a _date_ before," he admitted.

"I still can't believe you asked her," Ron complained, "or that she said _yes_." Realising (with the aid of the glares of his two best friends) that he'd said something rather insulting, the red-head backpedalled, "I mean she turned me down for the Yule Ball, actually looking at me as if I was some kind of slug, she was at the Ball with that seventh year Ravenclaw. I know you're a champion, mate," he shrugged, "and _Harry Potter_ but even so I'm surprised she's interested in someone a few years younger than her."

Given that she held similar views over their relationship, Hermione opted to say nothing; Harry just shrugged. "Well, we _are_ going together, so I'll meet you near the _Shrieking Shack_ at around four and we'll," he dropped his voice to a whisper, " _go and see Sirius_?"

The other two nodded. Harry finished his breakfast and looked up again; students were beginning to leave, including some of the French contingent and he could see Fleur had finished eating as well. Their eyes met and the French witch smiled at him. He rose, muttered a "see you later" to his two friends and walked over to her, feeling very out of place in his school robes (but having figured he needed to wear something decent for his first ever date and that he didn't have too many other options).

"Are you ready to go?" he asked awkwardly, "or do you need to go to your carriage first?"

"Non, I am ready," she informed him; she gave a quizzical look at his attire before picking up her coat from her chair and slipping it on. He nervously took her hand, feeling gratified as she interlaced their fingers and they walked out of the Hall, Ron and Hermione a few paces behind them looking rather uncomfortable at the couple in front of them.

Over at the Slytherin table several fourth years exchanged looks at this spectacle; a certain blond narrowed his eyes and began to plot on how to use this to his advantage.

"You look lovely," Harry blurted out as he and Fleur walked hand-in-hand down the road that led to the village (Hermione had made sure she and Ron dropped back a few yards to give them a little bit of space and privacy); she had now fastened the heavy coat she wore to protect her from the late winter elements but he had seen the simple but form-fitting blouse she wore beneath it while they had been at breakfast. She also wore tight, figure-hugging, dark blue jeans and thigh-length boots.

"You sink zis ees nice?" she asked in a touch of surprise, the blush in his cheeks that accompanied his comment delighting her the way it always did. "Wait until ze weather warms up," Fleur whispered conspiratorially.

"I don't think it ever does here," he lamented; seeing Fleur in fewer clothes was always a good thing in his book.

" _C'est vrai?_ Eet ees always zis cold?" she shivered despite her layers. "Een France eet ees very good weather een ze summer," the Veela added wistfully. "Where would you like to go first?" she asked as they approached the village centre.

"Well I want to go into _Gladrags Wizardwear_ and get some socks for Dobby." Realising how crazy that sounded without any context, he added, "He's a house elf; remember I told you about the one who was trying to help me in second year?" She nodded. "Well he got me the gillyweed for the second task. Because I freed him with a sock he's a big fan of them and I thought I'd get him some more."

"Zen 'e 'elped save Gabbi; I weel get 'eem some too," she declared.

* * *

"I 'ave to ask, 'Arry," she began as they approached the till a few minutes later with armfuls of garish socks, "you wore such fine dress robes for ze ball, zey really matched your eyes, yet you usually wear rather old clothes and today you wear your school robes. Nobody else wears zem when zey come to ze village."

Harry turned red. "Normally I wouldn't," he admitted, "but… you know I told you about my aunt and uncle?" Again she nodded; he hadn't said _much_ about his home life seemingly reluctant to talk about it, but had given her the basics about their dislike of him and of magic. "You're right about the old clothes; nearly everything I own used to belong to my somewhat obese cousin. I don't want the Dursleys to know that my parents left me quite a lot of money," he continued, "and I'm worried that they would if I turned up with nice things, then they'd realise I'm quite comfortably off in the wizarding world and they'd try and take my inheritance from me."

"Ah," she acknowledged before frowning, "so why not buy ze nice sings zen leave zem in ze bottom of your trunk?"

He pondered this. "I could," he conceded, "but," he gestured around the shop at the robes and other wizarding apparel on display, "I could hardly wear this stuff outside of the magical world and I've never had any chances during the summer to go to Gringotts, change money for sterling and then go shopping in London."

"Well we can feex zis today," she declared as an idea came to her. He gave her a questioning look but conversation was suspended as they paid for their purchases for Dobby before Fleur turned to the shopkeeper. "Excusez-moi, do you 'ave a floo zat we could use, please?"

The lady behind the counter looked at the French girl for a moment, obviously not thrilled by the idea of letting her use it; her eyes then fell on the young man next to her. She hadn't noticed his identity when ringing up their purchases and her eyes lit up. "Of course, Mr Potter," she told Harry, "it's through the back," and she pointed them towards it, smiling at the young wizard.

Fleur thanked her and they walked into the back room; Harry turned to his date with annoyance on his face. "I can't believe that!" he lamented once safely out of earshot. "She treated you like dirt, was going to be completely dismissive, then she sees me and suddenly she can't do enough for me!"

Fleur just shrugged. "Do not worry, mon cher, ze English and ze French do not normally like each ozzer much."

"Well I like at least _one_ French girl," Harry grinned.

"Anysing to get in my knickers," she mock-grumbled with a wink, which he rewarded with a chuckle, before she guided them both into the fireplace, threw in a handful of powder and called, "Cleusaux!" into the green flame. The two vanished.

 _Cleusaux Department Store,_

 _Paris_

"Welcome to Paris, 'Arry," Fleur declared as they stepped out of the fire. "Technically we shouldn't enter ze country zis way but," she shrugged, "I 'ave good friends where eet matters, zey weel not care so long as we are back tonight."

"We need to, anyway, to meet… so I can show you my secret," he caught himself in time, realising that they were in a public place.

A young man greeted Fleur in exuberant French; she replied before he switched to English to greet Harry, declaring that it was a great honour to meet the boy about whom so much had been written. _Boy who shagged a Veela is still cooler_ , Harry thought as he graciously accepted the greeting.

Fleur exchanged a few more words with the shop's employee before leading Harry through the store, explaining that she'd told her friend they were here to get Harry a non-magical wardrobe and maybe a few more things as well.

"They sell 'regular' clothing here?" he asked in surprise.

"Of course," she confirmed, "unlike Britain, we up'old ze statute of secrecy by 'iding where ze non-magicals can see us. By mixing in with zem we can be sure zat nobody suspects we 'ave magic."

"So witches and wizards are hiding in plain sight," he said in wonder, realising that the gathering at the camp site for the World Cup final would have been far less conspicuous if more wizards and witches had the faintest idea how to function outside of their own enclaves.

"Oui, zat ees what I meant. I need to eemprove my English," she sighed.

"It's way better than my French; I haven't used it since I left Primary School," he replied glumly.

"Eef you are a lucky boy zen maybe we can add zat to your lessons," she joked seductively; Harry privately hoped the lesson plan would be too full for that.

They spent the rest of the morning shopping; Harry found that he could go to the top floor of the store to pay for his purchases using his wizarding money and left the check-out with bags full of shirts, shorts, T-shirts (some rather tight ones that Fleur thought looked _very_ good on him, jumpers, jeans, trousers and underwear (some of which he never thought he'd wear, though Fleur was campaigning for him to wear it to their 'revision classes' – her use of the plural convinced him that doing so would be a good idea). When he commented that he might need a bigger trunk to hold all the stuff he'd bought, Fleur led him to another part of the store's top floor, pointing out trunks similar to the one Professor Moody had, with different compartments and different keys.

"You could 'ide your new clothes in 'ere and your relatives need never know if you only open ze other compartment," she explained with some satisfaction. Loving the idea, Harry bought one of the trunks as well.

Fleur had also bought a few things; with a wicked gleam in her eye she had proved to him that she _did_ sometimes wear underwear by modelling some very nice lingerie for him before buying it.

"'Ow about some lunch?" the French witch asked once she had paid for her purchases.

"I like the sound of that," Harry glanced at a clock on the wall near them. "We should have time before we need to get back; I didn't think it was quite this late."

"Ah, 'Arry, 'ave you forgotten ze time difference?" He looked confused, having never been abroad with the Dursleys. "Een France we are one hour ahead of you; we 'ave plenty of time before we 'ave to meet your friends." They headed to the café on the top floor where Harry bought his date a nice lunch and thanked her for taking him shopping. "Eet was my pleasure," she replied, adding with a grin, "and I enjoyed ze show." She then took a sip from her coffee as Harry tried to avoid doing a spit-take with his tea. She also wondered why, after their meal, Harry bought a few more pastries to take away. _All part of the secret_ he told her with a knowing grin.

"Come," she told him as they cleared their table after lunch, "we still 'ave some time before we meet your friends." Fleur led him to the ground floor and through to the back; in between the male and female toilets, seemingly unseen by the non-magic shoppers, was a passageway. The Veela guided him down it and into what looked like a French version of Diagon Alley.

"Ze Magic Quarter of Paris," she declared happily. "We can walk 'ere for a leetle while before going back."

They spent a very pleasant couple of hours walking around the small streets of the Quarter; Harry ducked into the Pet Shop and picked up some treats for Hedwig and also spent some time admiring the French brooms in one of their Quidditch shops. With Fleur's help he was able to evaluate their specifications; while none could match his Firebolt, there were some very nice broomsticks for sale.

Fleur and Harry returned to the department store and flooed back to the _Three Broomsticks_ at around ten to four UK time. "Well, it wasn't the day I had in mind," Harry said as he took her hand again and they left the pub, "but it was very nice. I started the day wanting to show you around Hogsmeade though today."

"Maybe we can do zat on ze next weekend?" Fleur suggested; Harry swallowed at the understanding that she was suggesting another date for them.

"I'd like that," he told her. She shivered at the cold air around her and let go of his hand so that she could pull her heavy coat back on, having been content to carry it while they shopped.

"I wish I didn't need to carry my new trunk with me," he lamented as he hefted it around; at least his purchases, and hers, were in it.

"Zen don't," she replied simply, "see eef your friend Dobby weel take ze sings to your room," she suggested.

"Good idea," he complemented before cautiously calling "Dobby." The little elf appeared with a crack.

"What can Dobby do for Harry Potter?" he asked, overwhelmed to have been summoned.

"Can you take these things to my dorm for me please? Oh," he added as he delved into the bags and retrieved the _Gladrags_ bag, "these are for you."

Dobby took the bag nervously. "Harry Potter sir has bought Dobby socks!" he declared, overcome with emotion as he opened the bag and peered inside.

"'Ere are some more," Fleur added, delving into Harry's new trunk and giving the elf another bag.

"Harry Potter's lady friend is too kind," he told her. "Does Miss want Dobby to take her bags to her carriage too?"

"Yes, zat would be very kind Dobbee," the Veela replied separating her purchases from Harry's. A snap of his fingers and the couple's shopping disappeared, materialising in their rooms.

"Dobby has to go back to the kitchens now, sir," he told Harry, "but Dobby will make sure Harry and his lady get their dinner tonight." He disappeared with a toothy grin; Harry shook his head in amusement, feeling house-elves shouldn't be capable of knowing looks like those.

"'E is unlike any elf I 'ave seen before," Fleur observed.

"He's certainly unique," Harry agreed. Now that their purchases had been dealt with, he took her hand again and led her to the Shrieking Shack, where two figures were waiting for them; one of whom was looking rather annoyed.

" _There_ you are," Hermione huffed.

"Are you ok, Hermione?" Harry asked in concern; he glanced at his watch, seeing that they weren't late and wondering what had upset his friend.

"I thought I'd at least see you in the village somewhere, maybe over lunch. You left me with Ronald _all day_ instead," she hissed, quiet enough for the redhead not to overhear. She looked at a sniggering Fleur, who seemed to enjoy her exasperation, and then turned questioningly back to Harry.

"I trust her; she's coming with us," he declared with a tone of finality. Hermione studied the Veela for a few seconds before nodding and turning back to Ron, whose face seemed to contain both jealousy and infatuation.

"Oh, close your mouth before you start drooling," she snapped at the red-head; Harry and Fleur shared a smile and then started laughing. She then looked at her friend again. "Were you wearing that this morning?" she asked, though she was pretty sure that he _wasn't_ , given that she'd never seen him in muggle clothes that fit him.

"This? Oh no, I bought it today," he replied casually.

"Where did you go that sells muggle clothing?" she demanded. "I've never seen any in any of the shops here."

He grinned guiltily, something not lost on the young witch. "We _might_ have sneaked off to Paris for the day," he admitted.

"Paris?!" she gaped.

A deep bark distracted them; Harry turned to see the familiar, shaggy, black dog in front of them on the path. To Fleur's eyes it looked unusually amused for a dog, and seemed to be staring at their conjoined hands.

"Hello Sirius," he greeted the dog warmly.

"Sirius Black? Your godfazzer?" Fleur's eyes widened; Harry nodded his confirmation. The dog had turned and headed down the path out of the village, causing the teens to hurry after them. She received her next shock as they reached the cave and came face to face with a Hippogriff. Harry bowed to the majestic beast, Ron and Hermione did likewise so she copied their actions, albeit nervously; she was relieved when Buckbeak bowed to her.

"Harry Potter," Sirius declared, having transformed back into a man, "dating a beautiful French Veela? I can tell when I'm in my animagus form," he nodded at the girl who had given him a curious look when he made that statement, "you sly old dog," he smirks at his godson.

"I thought that was _you_ ," Harry countered quickly, much to Fleur's amusement; Sirius also laughed at his accurate come-back. Hermione, meanwhile, bit her lip, having noticed that neither of them had commented on Sirius's use of the word 'dating'. "Oh, I got you something," he reached into his pocket and pulled out the bag of pastries he'd bought earlier; Sirius frowned as he read the name on the bag.

"It's from Paris," Hermione supplied stiffly. " _Somebody_ went there today."

Sirius looked at his godson with something approaching reverence. "Wow Harry, even _we_ never thought of leaving the _country_ on a Hogsmeade weekend. It wasn't until seventh year that we even left the _village_ ; we apparated to York for the afternoon so James could take Lily to the theatre. So, who is your charming young lady?"

"Sirius, this is Fleur Delacour, Beauxbatons champion. Fleur, this is Sirius, my godfather – innocent of the crimes he was imprisoned for but of very little else," Harry provided the introductions. Sirius laughed and confirmed his assessment was accurate before savouring the taste of France he had been brought, discussing the tournament's goings-on (Fleur became concerned at some of the issues they'd raised and the possible danger that Harry seemed to find himself in) and getting to know his godson's lover.

* * *

"We need to get back for dinner," Hermione observed. "Will you two be joining us?" she asked the couple as they left the cave, Padfoot gambolling behind them.

Harry glanced at Fleur before answering, "We'll be dining alone."

"Oh, ok," the bushy-haired teen nodded, understanding what he was _really_ saying; she was trying to be as civil and supportive as she could.

 _Mademoiselle Delacour's room,_

 _Beauxbatons Carriage_

"Thanks Dobby!" Harry called as his meal appeared on the table in Fleur's room.

"Yes, merci Dobbee," Fleur added, eyeing her own plate. She offered Harry another butterbeer and he readily accepted, delighted to see her shapely backside again ensconced in tight denim, as she bent over the trunk and picked up a couple of bottles. She placed one by his plate and one by hers before sitting down to eat.

The air was crackling with erotic energy as they finished eating; both teens knew what the night had in store but found themselves wanting to prolong the build-up a little. Fleur transfigured her chair into a love seat and Harry needed no encouragement in slipping in next to her as she draped an arm over his shoulders. Before long they were trading soft kisses and soon afterwards Fleur took one of Harry's hands and guided it under her blouse, though for now she kept it resting on her stomach.

"Are you ready?" she asked between kisses.

"For you," he grinned, "definitely."

The French witch stood and stripped her blouse; to Harry's surprise she was braless and her breasts were on display for him.

"No wonder you had to buy a few bras in the shop today," he joked; Fleur giggled, giving a little jiggle for him as she did. She then took his hand and pulled him to his feet, unbuttoning his new shirt and removing that, followed quickly by his new, tight T-shirt.

They kissed again as Harry moved his hands to Fleur's jeans; he undid them and began to wriggle them down her hips and legs, drinking in the tiny thong they had concealed.

"Wow, I don't think I'd _ever_ get into those knickers even if I wanted to!" he gaped as he gawped at the strands of fabric; Fleur laughed again before she helped him remove the remainder of his clothing. Finally he peeled her last garment from her body and they headed to her bed.

Using the lessons he'd learnt the previous weekend, Harry worked on Fleur's body; he started by tickling her feet, delighting in how she wriggled under his ministrations. From there he began kissing up her thighs, alternating between each leg as he moved upwards. To her frustration he skipped over her centre, moving instead up to her naval and then began lavishing attention on her breasts, marvelling at her erect nipples. Harry was surprised by how soon he had her quivering (Fleur herself was equally surprised; it definitely wasn't normal for her to be turned on so much and so quickly). As she had cast her numbing charm on him again, he decided to patiently trying to bring her closer and closer to her peak without sending her over it until he entered her and she began to groan at his 'torture' of her. His next act was to start kissing back down her body before reaching his target. He began to run his tongue lightly up and down her slit, enjoying the feel of her squirming.

"'Arry," she growled, "'urry or zere will be more 'exes for your derriere."

He smiled but wasn't sure whether or not she was serious. To be on the safe side he planted a couple of kisses on her before slipping his tongue inside her folds; he closed his eyes and tried to commit the landscape to memory using only the feel of his tongue. Harry was a little surprised when Fleur came, and came so forcefully, under his efforts; suddenly her juices flooded into his mouth and he swallowed with little chance to savour the taste, though what he tasted was certainly pleasant. Ignoring the whimpers emanating from his lover he continued to lick and suck at her; he was just as surprised, but at least a little better prepared, when she came a second time. He managed to savour the taste a little longer, keeping a tiny amount of her juices in his mouth when he withdrew, slithered up her body and began to kiss the Veela.

"Mmm, tres bien," she smiled, recognising the taste. "But now, my leetle 'ero, eet ees your turn for some pleasure," she rolled him onto his back and lowered herself onto him. She made sure he gently entered her, slowly thrusting her hips forwards and back to bring him towards his peak. To her surprise, Fleur was rapidly approaching another orgasm herself; she grabbed his hair as she climaxed, pushing herself on top of him and taking him deeper inside herself. The numbing charm kept Harry going longer than he had the previous week and his own orgasm was spectacular; bright lights seemed to explode in his mind as he shook involuntarily with his release. Fleur's hands moved behind him, holding him close as her lips found his and their tongues danced while they enjoyed coming down from the heights of their passion.

"You surprised me, 'Arry," she observed once they had come down enough to talk. "We deed not discuss _zat_ last week."

"Oh, uh, well some of the guys in the dorm have these magazines," he began awkwardly, "and with wizarding pictures and the way they move, some of them make things really, _really_ clear," he blushed, "and the witches seemed to like it…" Fleur giggled at his growing embarrassment.

"So you like ze magazine pictures, non?" she asked with a sly smile.

"They're not as pretty as you," he added hurriedly.

"Good answer, mon cher," she told him with a laugh. " _Very_ good answer," Fleur pulled him in for another kiss; he began to firm again, showing Fleur he was ready for another round, as a Veela she was as well.

 _Sunday, 6_ _th_ _March 1994_.

"Fleur?" Harry asked thoughtfully as he cuddled the blonde; something had been niggling at him ever since he woke up and he was waiting for her to rouse herself before talking to her about it.

"Oui, mon cher?" she gave him a soft, good morning kiss.

"When I was at the World Cup, the Bulgarians brought Veela as mascots and… and they transformed when Ireland's Leprechauns upset them."

"I am not surprised."

"Yes, well, I was wondering. Can you transform?"

Fleur sighed. "I 'ave transformed before," she admitted, "eet starts to 'appen once a Veela begins to mature. But… I cannot control it fully; zat only 'appens once we reach adulthood, usually our early twenties."

"Could you? Transform, I mean?"

"You want to see eet?" she asked in surprise; he nodded. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

She reluctantly got out of bed and took a few steps away, into the middle of the room before turning to face him. She closed her eyes, focussing on her Veela magic and letting it start to flow over her, _cocoon_ her almost. Slowly she felt her body begin to change.

Harry watched transfixed as his beautiful girlfriend transformed into one of the avian creatures he'd seen at the World Cup final. Her eyes remained closed and he even saw a couple of small fireballs appear in her hands before her eyes snapped open. She looked at him and instantly the fireballs disappeared. As they continued to stare at one another the transformation reversed and within seconds Fleur was back to her usual beautiful self, stood before him and panting heavily. "Well, zat ees my ozzer form," she gasped, "what do you zink?" She looked desperately at him, seeking his approval, her eyes willing him not to tell her he was repelled by it.

Harry got up from the bed; he walked over to the French witch and pulled her into a hug, kissing her gently. "Thank you for showing me that, Fleur."

"You were not disgusted?" she asked nervously; he responded with a more passionate kiss.

"It's a part of who you are," he told her afterwards, "although I'd rather not be on the receiving end of one of those fireballs," he smirked, causing her to begin to laugh, the movements it caused in her body were doing funny things to his own that she certainly noticed, and appreciated, "but you were still you, you still had the grace and magnificence of your uh…" he pondered how to phrase it, "regular form?" She nodded, appreciating that it was difficult for a non-Veela (or someone unfamiliar with the species) to phrase things and showing she wasn't going to take any offence at a slip of the tongue or slightly inaccurate turn of phrase. "I sink you prefer to snuggle me in _zis_ form zough?" she asked. He took a little step back so he could appraise her and, seeing that she was smiling, nodded. "Zen let's go back to bed and snuggle some more," she suggested; Harry readily agreed.

 _Great Hall,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry and Fleur walked in, just as lunch was beginning; he took his customary seat next to Ron and Hermione while she joined the other French students at the Ravenclaw table. The red-head immediately began proceedings by observing that he never came back to the dorm the previous night. "You were with Fleur?" Harry nodded. "All night?" He nodded again. "Bloody Hell!" His eyes glazed over, causing Harry to look, with some amusement, towards Hermione; she held up her hand with 5 fingers spread, curling first her thumb, then her index finger, middle finger, ring finger and finally, her little finger. As soon as she had done, Ron blurted out, "Does she have a sister?"

"Yes, Ron," Harry sighed, "we pulled her out of the lake after the second task, remember?"

"Oh right. A best friend then?"

Hermione huffed again, " _Boys!_ " Harry grinned at her and she eventually grinned back.

 _Monday, 7_ _th_ _March 1994_.

Today was the day, Draco had decided. Ever since Potter had left with the… creature on Saturday he had wanted to bring it to the attention of a wider audience. Now, with a full Great Hall for lunch and (more importantly from the blond's perspective) Professor Snape sat watching, the time had come.

"Dear oh dear Potter," he goaded as he strutted over to the Ravenclaw table; Harry had just finished his lunch and was saying a quick hello to Fleur before heading off to get ready for his next class. "Your father was bad enough, marrying a mudblood, but you have to sully the Potter name even more by consorting with a half-breed? Every time we think your family can't sink any lower you somehow manage it."

Harry straightened in an instant and spun to face the smug Slytherin. Only Fleur's gentle tug on his sleeve kept him from going for his wand and trying to take a leaf out of Moody's book. Instead, using every drop of self-control he possessed he turned to the silent staff table where everyone seemed content to watch and listen, apart from, he saw, an angry Madame Maxime; nobody else seemed prepared to react (other than Snape who looked on the verge of actually _smiling_ ). "So that's how it is?" he asked the table as a whole. "Malfoy can waltz over here, insult me, my parents, my friend," he caught himself in time before revealing anything about the extent of their relationship (though anybody who saw them leave together on Saturday had their suspicions), "who is a guest to our school and our country, all of you hear it and none of you have a thing to say about it?" He looked from one end of the table to the other, vaguely noting through his anger that the Beauxbatons headmistress had stood and was walking around the table. "You disgust me," he spat, before his eyes lingered on his own head of house, who was as unresponsive as the others, "all of you," he concluded fixing Professor McGonagall with a glare. No longer caring what anybody saw or thought, he took Fleur's hand and stormed out of the Great Hall; she had to quicken her pace a little to keep up with him, lest he wrench her arm from its socket. In his annoyed state Harry vaguely noted Hermione stand and start to follow them; unseen by him she tugged at Ron's sleeve and he followed her, though he looked mortified to be missing the end of his lunch.

"Potter!" McGonagall stood and shouted at his retreating back; he didn't acknowledge her but tensed slightly, half-expecting _someone_ (either Snape or Malfoy most likely) to fire a curse at his back, not realising that the large figure of Olympe Maxime was now between them and him. Draco _also_ suddenly realised that the half-giantess was stood over him; a braver ferret than Malfoy would have been scared of the look she gave him.

"You _weel_ apologise to my student," she demanded. A terrified Draco looked to Snape for support, but while he may have enjoyed seeing Potter publically embarrassed and explode, the grease-stain was in no mood to get on the wrong side of the formidable French witch; Maxime, meanwhile, turned her ire towards the Hogwarts Headmaster. "Dumblydore! Do you not teach your students _anysing_ about respecting other people? Your champion was correct; you and your school are a disgrace!"

As Hermione and Ron left the Hall in pursuit of their friend, Dumbledore was trying desperately to calm her; she only sat down, however, after Malfoy managed to squawk an apology to her; tellingly he would never approach Harry or Fleur to apologise to them.

Harry and Fleur looked at one another, sharing a smile as Hermione relayed the story to them; they had made it to the shore of the Black Lake before the two Gryffindors caught up with them. With neither of them feeling like going to class, they opted to continue their walk (Ron wanted to join them but an exasperated Hermione dragged him back to school); they were still angry at Draco's taunts and the Hogwarts staff's lack of reaction though. It took them one lap of the lake and numerous kisses before both were calmed down sufficiently to think of anything else.

"Why did you stop me destroying the little worm?" Harry asked Fleur eventually, during one of their laps of the lake.

"Eef you started casting spells in ze 'All, 'ow would zey react? Snape and ze others? You see 'ow zey did not react to 'iz words but do you zink zey would let you attack 'eem? I deed not want you to get een trouble because of me."

"You're worth _all_ the trouble I could get into," he assured her before leaning in to add, in a conspiratorial whisper, "I get into enough trouble without you being around."

"Vraiment?" She raised her eyebrows. "You deed not mention zat een your stories, mon cher. You must tell me all," she demanded.

Harry was glad that they had decided to skive off the afternoon's classes; this could take some time.

They returned to school in time for dinner; in another act of defiance Fleur decided to join him at the Gryffindor table. Hermione gave them a slightly disapproving look as they joined her (still upset at him for missing an afternoon of classes). Harry could see that Snape was also glaring at him (as he had missed Potions) but he _really_ didn't care about that. To his surprise the rest of the Beauxbatons students, upon entering the Hall, elected to join them, gathering round the quartet and thanking him for sticking up for their classmate.

It was into this jovial atmosphere that McGonagall stepped once Harry had finished his main course; dessert had yet to be served when the stern witch arrived.

"Potter, you will come with me to detention," she declared.

"What for, Professor?" he asked, suspecting he knew.

"You know very well what for, Potter," she shot back, "for your disrespect to me and the staff this lunchtime."

"Really?" Harry challenged. "Malfoy can run his mouth off and nobody says a word; I call you out on it and get detention? Don't think I didn't notice that it was only when the Head of another school got involved," he bowed to Madame Maxime, who was listening in and looked far from happy; she returned the bow, "that Malfoy was cowed into offering an apology to her. I notice he has made no attempt to apologise to either Fleur or me for his slights on us."

"Be that as it may, Potter, Mr Malfoy has been dealt with; it's _your_ behaviour that we're discussing; you cannot show me the disrespect you did, saying what you did and when walking away when I was wanting to talk to you – _that_ has earned you detention. Follow me."

Harry sighed and got to his feet; he kissed Fleur's cheek and told her he'd see her later. She surprised him by standing as well, taking his hand and following him. Hearing two sets of footsteps, McGonagall turned towards them. "Miss Delacour? This doesn't concern you; kindly return to your seat."

"Au contraire, _Professeur_ ," she added a healthy dose of contempt to the word, "'Arry was defending me and my honour when I was insulted. Eet ees only right zat I share een 'iz punishment for it."

McGonagall wanted to argue but could see that the headstrong Veela was not going to back down; she turned on her heel and continued walking. Her resolve was tested, though, when the entire Beauxbatons contingent stood and followed; when she questioned them a spokesman told the frazzled Transfiguration teacher that the honour of their school was at stake and that they were showing their support for Harry standing up for one of their students. Her ire increased further when Hermione stood and made to join the group. "Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked.

"Ferret-features was insulting muggle-borns, Professor," she observed with absolutely _no_ respect, "so Harry was sticking up for me as well," she reasoned sweetly.

"Are you mental?" Ron hissed as she walked off. She didn't respond so he turned to Seamus. "Mental, _volunteering_ for detention." The Irish half-blood nodded his agreement. The three Gryffindor Quidditch Chasers, however, took a different view; they got up as well to support their Seeker and, to Ron's disbelief, Cedric Diggory came across as well from the Hufflepuff table (with Cho Chang leaving the Ravenclaws and joining her boyfriend a moment later), citing that they were protesting the lack of support that the school and its staff had given Harry, along with the lack of action taken against the Slytherin instigator.

As the unlikely group followed a flustered and angry McGonagall, Harry's team-mates inched towards him; he thanked the three Chasers for their support.

"No problem," Katie Bell smiled before she leaned into him and whispered, "and just so you know, if things don't work out between you and Fleur, the three of us talked about it and we're happy to share." Her words caused Harry to stumble against a crack in the old stone floor of the castle; Fleur threw her free arm around his midriff to catch him before he could go headlong into McGonagall, something that she suspected would not improve the formidable Scotch witch's demeanour. Katie turned to her fellow Chasers with a smirk; Alicia Spinnet mouthed "evil" at her but both she and Angelina Johnson wore broad smiles, having made their point to the young seeker.

On arrival at the classroom Harry was surprised to discover that the detention turned out to consist of McGonagall giving Harry some books full of hexes, jinxes and other spells that she said could help him with the third task. With two other champions present she thus allowed Fleur and Cedric to train with him as well (although it would transpire that the older champions were already familiar with most of the book's contents) while the others agreed to act as (reluctant) target dummies or duelling partners for them. With McGonagall's permission, the classroom would become a regular meeting spot for those interested in helping Harry, Fleur and Cedric train (they invited Krum but he refused).

As McGonagall wound up their 'detention', Harry walked back with Fleur and the Beauxbatons students to their carriage; he made a point of thanking them for their support and shook hands with all of them. As they gave the couple the space to say goodnight Fleur invited him to come over for dinner again on Saturday night; the look in her eyes telling him there would be more than just dinner. Harry readily agreed and kissed her goodnight.

 _Gryffindor common room_

"Harry, mate. Where were you?"

"Oh, I just walked Fleur back to the carriage," he explained.

"I _told_ you that!" Hermione told him hotly; Ron waved her off dismissively.

"Anyway, mate, it was spectacular after you all left. Maxime was yelling at Dumbledore and Snape; she wasn't happy that you'd been punished for defending one of _her_ students and they'd done nothing to Malfoy for starting the whole thing. Well, she was upset at Dumbledore for that; Snape was just looking like a smug git as usual before she turned on him. I was hoping she'd turn him into a slug but she didn't."

"Hi Harry, sorry we couldn't back you up there," Fred Weasley greeted him as he and his twin brother joined them.

"Yeah, he had a prior appointment with Filch that we couldn't get out of," George complained. "Still, at least we got to nick a few more of the things he'd confiscated. I think one or two of these could come in useful in Snape's next class."

The look on the twins' faces would have made Harry feel sorry for almost anybody except the Potions Master; he felt, though, that Snape deserved everything that would come to him.

 _Mademoiselle Delacour's room,_

 _Beauxbatons Carriage,_

 _Saturday, 12_ _th_ _March 1994_.

After a wonderful dinner and a passionate, energetic bout of love-making, Harry and Fleur lay together on their sides, lost in one another's eyes; Harry was also idly brushing Fleur's hair as he smiled at her. "That was even better than last week," he declared happily. "I'm beginning to think I understand what you were saying that first weekend; as your feelings for someone get stronger, the sex – the love-making," he corrected himself, "just gets better and better."

"'Arry, what are you saying?" she asked cautiously.

"I don't know for certain, Fleur," he admitted. "It seems too soon to say that I love you but… I can definitely feel things going that way," he disclosed nervously.

"I agree zat eet ees fast," she replied slowly, seeing his expression turn crestfallen as he assumed she was about to shoot him down, "but I 'ave strong feelings for you, too, mon cher." His expression turned into a huge smile at this. "Zere can be… complications wiz me being Veela and especially wiz me in France and you 'ere eet would be tricky, but 'oo knows what weel 'appen?"

Harry was happy with what she was saying, and relieved that she hadn't just thrown him out of her bed when he admitted his feelings were growing. "What complications?" he asked.

"Usually a Veela feels ze need to uh... 'ave regular intercourse or eet can cause our magic to spike and become difficult to control," she explained, "alzough 'ere or at Beauxbatons, wiz so much magic een ze air, I actually find eet ees easier for me to keep eet under my control. Ze summer ees 'arder, but I can usually take care of eet myself." She slid her hand demonstrably down between her legs to show what she meant.

"Hmm, so if you've finished school and I'm still here at Hogwarts than it's going to be a lot more difficult for us to be together," he agreed.

"Oui," she confirmed, "eet would be _difficile_ for you to sneak out often enough and meet me in 'Ogsmeade." Harry accepted this, wondering how _frequent_ these visits would need to be - or how frequent he would be able to make them, "and I don't sink your Professors would let me visit you for ze nights."

"I don't think the other guys in our dorm would complain," he commented, causing her to laugh.

"I'm sure zey would love eet" she agreed.

"I was wondering," he asked cautiously as they continued to cuddle, "you've taught me so much, but who taught you? How many… y'know, partners, have you had? If you want to tell me, I mean," he added hurriedly.

"Zere 'ave been 4 boys since I 'it my maturation," she admitted. "Not as many as some Veela but quite normal for zose of us at our school."

"And you were able to manage these relationships while being at school?" He wondered how much more liberal the French school was, suspecting the Hogwarts teachers would be far from happy to learn students were sleeping together.

"Zey do not _like_ us to do so at school, but eet 'appems of course; I'm sure eet does 'ere as well – and not just wiz us," she smirked; Harry hadn't really thought about it but snippets of what he'd heard from prefects about broom cupboards and empty classrooms suddenly made a lot more sense. "Eet ees possible also for ze students at our school to travel een and out by portkey on a day. I usually do zat, and Gabbi weel as well when she starts, zough I also 'ave a bed een one of ze dorms."

"Oh, so you just leave some sleepwear and things there for in case you need it?" he assumed.

She laughed uproariously in response. "Oh 'Arry," she cupped his cheek sympathetically, "steel so innocent. I sought zat I 'ad feexed zat by now."

Harry turned red as the implications of her words sank in; she laughed again before taking pity on him and kissing him, while her hand moved from between her legs to his, working its magic and getting him ready for more. Harry wasn't sure whether his new Patronus thought was going to be the memory of making love to Fleur or the thought of a dorm full of beautiful, nude, French witches, but whichever he chose he was pretty sure it would work very well.

"I also 'ave a couple of _very_ good female friends," she whispered as she continued to handle him, "both at 'ome and een ze dorm at school, 'oo are 'appy to 'elp out when ze urges get too much for me."

Harry's eyes glazed over at this, much to her amusement; she continued to work on him for a few minutes before mounting him again, unaware that she had given him a third thought to test for his Patronus.

"Thinking about this," he began after they were sated for the time being, "it looks like the only way things might work longer term would be if I wasn't at Hogwarts, if I could move to move to France, to Beauxbatons. Maybe just as a day student so I could see you whenever we wanted to."

She was silenced by this, surprised that he was even considering such an upheaval for her. "Zat would be a 'uge step," she cautioned, "to move school, move country, 'ave to learn ze language a beet better." She looked him in the eye and continued, "We 'ave been togezzer only a leetle while, 'Arry, but, eef things are steel good when ze tournament ends, zat would be three or four months so maybe we could see zen and talk again about eet."

He understood this; she wasn't saying no but was saying they needed to consider it carefully. She kissed him tenderly, he kissed back, feeling himself get firm again. As Fleur could feel his hardness against her leg, she made it clear that she was more than willing as she reached down and took his manhood in her hand, manoeuvring it inside her as she slid closer to him. Harry took her into his arms and the kissing continued while they continued to make love.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hello everyone and thank you for clicking on this story.**

 **Firstly, a hat tip to Xavras and MartinDeShande; I messed up the years, it should be the winter and spring of 1995 for Harry's 4** **th** **year, not 1994. The first chapter worked a lot better, though, with the second task occurring on a Thursday, which allowed Fleur to plan for the weekend of fun between her and Harry so never mind. To that end I've taken 1995's Easter weekend (16** **th** **April) as the weekend 0f Easter 1994, instead of the actual date of Easter that year, and also rejigged the timeline a little with a couple of events in the story to make it flow the way I want it to.**

 **Aside from that, once again a HUGE thank you to all of you for reading and reviewing the story so far; I've been blown away by the readership and reception that it has had. I hope you all enjoy this part and the finalé of the story.**

* * *

Chapter 3

 _History of Magic Classroom,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,_

 _Monday 14_ _th_ _March 1994_.

" _Beauxbatons?_ " Hermione asked in a shocked and alarmed whisper; she wasn't worried about disturbing Professor Binns's droning lesson but was concerned that she might broadcast Harry's plans to a wider audience than he was ready to disclose them to. "You're leaving us and moving to _France_?" To Harry's other side Ron snored loudly.

"I _might_ be," he emphasised in a low voice, "I was talking to Fleur at the weekend." Hermione rolled her eyes sceptically and he sighed. "Yes, Hermione, we _do_ actually talk, not just…" he tailed off and gestured awkwardly; Hermione was torn between shuddering at the thought of what he and Fleur got up to in private and laughing at his discomfort. "Anyway, she said that I shouldn't rush into the decision, that we should see how things are by the end of the year and, if we still feel there's something long-term, approach Madame Maxime then."

The bushy-haired witch was surprised by this; she had expected that Fleur had been the instigator for this, rather than the voice of reason. Another thought occurred to her. "Do you even speak French?"

"Some," he assured her. "It's rusty, since I stopped having lessons after Primary School, but if I practice I could be conversational by the summer; one reason I'm glad the Beauxbatons students joined us at our table: so I can try and practice over meals."

"Did you forget about me?" she asked pointedly.

"I could never forget about you, Hermione. Ok it would be different if I was at another school but we'd still be able to see each other over holidays and…"

"I didn't mean that," she interrupted, though a sadness swept over her as the consequences were beginning to sink in, "I meant why not try practicing your French with me?" She smiled at his questioning expression. " _Honestly, Harry_ ," she sighed, "did you forget that my parents and I were in France the summer before last? That we've been going since I was little?"

"And if you holiday in France then of course Hermione Granger is going to be fluent in French," Harry drew the logical conclusion with a grin. "Well we have 'detention' tonight," she nodded, having decided she would continue to participate in the training sessions McGonagall had authorised for him, Cedric and Fleur, "but maybe we can do some French study tomorrow night?"

" _If_ we get our essays for Potions done in time," she agreed. Harry groaned; he _really_ wasn't looking forward to writing the essay for Snape.

 _Transfiguration Classroom_

"So you 'ate Potions because of Snape," Fleur commented sympathetically; she was talking with Harry, Hermione and Cedric while they took a rest after an intensive session of spell casting (the four of them were the only ones in attendance this evening, the rest having decided not to attend now knowing it wasn't an _actual_ detention; they'd made their point with a show of solidarity). The two boys nodded while Hermione just fidgeted awkwardly; it wasn't in her nature to hate learning but Snape made it oh so difficult. "Zat ees a real shame as eet ees so useful," she mused. "I always 'ad a good weech teaching Potions so I always enjoyed eet."

"It would make a difference having a teacher who…" Harry bit his tongue; there was so much he could say.

"Knew what he was doing?" Cedric had no reservations about speaking his mind. "He prattles on about how great he is but never tries to actually _teach_ anything, just here's what you do now do it. I've got my NEWTs next year and I haven't learnt _anything_ useful towards them in class."

"Well," Hermione began but Harry cut her off.

"Oh come on, Hermione, you only do as well as you do because you've read so many other books rather than just listened to him."

"Well you could do that as well," she pointed out.

"It's what I had to do ahead of my OWLs but we shouldn't _have_ to," Cedric tried to get back on point, "his job is to _teach_ not skulk around making snide comments to people he doesn't like."

"Weech ees almost everyone," Fleur commented. "And I was surprised just 'ow far be'ind your students are," the three Hogwarts kids looked at her in surprise, "ze potions 'ee 'as ze seventh year brewing are ones we could make two years ago – and zey 'ave done nothing zat we 'aven't; zey just learn less."

Hermione suddenly thought that trying to dissuade Harry from transferring was a bad idea; instead she began wondering whether her parents would allow her to move to France as well.

 _Mademoiselle Delacour's room,_

 _Beauxbatons Carriage,_

 _Saturday, 19_ _th_ _March 1994_.

Harry and Fleur had met for their now usual weekend dinner in her room; it was common knowledge to the Gryffindor 4th year boys that Harry would not be in the dormitory on Saturday night. So far they had managed to be discrete around the rest of the school, although between their date to Hogsmeade and the confrontation with Malfoy (and later McGonagall) the whole school now knew that the two were dating.

"So, 'Arry, what ees zis I 'ear about you spending all your evenings wiz anuzzer girl?" she asked once she had transfigured a chair back into the loveseat they'd shared the previous weekend. Cuddling together on it was fast becoming a favourite of them both.

He looked at her with a hint of panic in his eyes, wondering what rumours she had heard (had his more rational side kicked in then he'd have suspected she was joking, given that they were cuddling and would likely be relocating to her bed in the near future). Fleur couldn't hold her stern look for more than a couple more seconds; Harry relaxed as she began to giggle. "Steel so easy to tease, mon cher," she pulled him into a collection of kisses that lasted several minutes. "Anyway, ze girl?" she prompted in mock-stern tones.

"It was only Hermione," he shrugged; at the back of his mind he realised that sounded rather insulting towards his best friend so he amended, "she's been helping me practice French in case I do move schools."

"Ah," she grinned, "and you 'ave also been talking to our students at meals," she recalled. "Hmm, maybe anuzzer exam ees een order, non? 'Ow well you do weel determine your reward tonight," she added mischievously.

"And just how impartial will my examiner be?" he retorted confidently. "When failing me," he kissed her, "would mean," kiss, "you suffer as well." He then proceeded to nuzzle and nibble at her neck, delighting at the way her heart rate quickened as he explored the pulse point.

"I sink we weel postpone ze exam," she decided breathlessly. "I weel 'elp you revise first."

"I thought this _was_ revision class," he pointed out, leaving her neck alone for a few seconds and slipping a hand under her T-shirt, slightly surprised, after venturing his way up her flat stomach and beyond, to find that encountered the fabric of her bra. He glanced at his lover, seeing her eyes closed and a smile on her face so he moved his hands back to the bottom of her T-shirt and began to peel it off her; she raised her hands to help him remove it and sighed as he began to kiss the exposed flesh.

"We can study ze language tomorrow," she accepted.

 _Sunday, 20_ _th_ _March 1994_.

 _This is the best way to wake up_ , Harry decided. Fleur had clearly woken before him and was currently planting a trail of feather-light kisses on his torso. He squirmed a little as her tongue lingered at his naval, tickling him. He smiled, though, as he enjoyed the sensations she was causing him and didn't want her to stop. All too soon, however, she did, though he was happy as she moved further south, dealing with his rapidly stiffening 'morning problem' by first kissing the tip then licking around it. As she began to take the whole length into her mouth, Harry decided that he had been wrong. _This_ was the best way to wake up.

 _Great Hall,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

The Beauxbatons students had given a surprised look towards Harry as he and Fleur joined them on their trip up to the castle for breakfast. He had immediately turned red under their looks but Fleur, walking beside him and hand held firmly in hers gave them a confident, slightly challenging look.

"Maybe you should wait 'ere for a minute," she suggested as they approached the Hall, "eef you do not weesh for everyone to know where you were last night."

"My best friends all know," he told her, not wanting her to think he was ashamed of their relationship, "but it would be easier if certain people – and certain ferrets," she and the others in ear shot began to laugh at this, "didn't know. I also think it would be better if the staff," Dumbledore and Snape especially, he felt, "remained blissfully ignorant."

"OK, 'Arry," she kissed him and caught up with her friends, "remember, _en Francais au jour d'hui_ ," she winked at him and entered the Hall.

Harry stood for a few moments until he heard footsteps and voices coming from one of the passages. Suspecting that it was a group of Slytherins and not wanting anyone to wonder why he was standing outside the Hall on his own, he entered the Hall.

"Harry!" Hermione waved as he approached. "We thought you'd come in with Fleur," she added in a low voice; he made a show of giving the Veela a good morning kiss, much to the amusement of the French students, before quietly explaining his reasoning; Hermione and the Beauxbatons kids nodded before Fleur reminded him that he needed to speak in French today. Breakfast thus became a jovial affair, especially for Hermione and Fleur as Harry struggled through the meal, though both told him at the end that he had done very well.

"So well," she concluded, "zat we should go for a walk; you 'ave earned a small reward."

Hermione watched them go with a touch of sadness on her face; she was missing the time she and Harry used to spend together and more and more she got the feeling that that time was rapidly running out.

"What was all that about?" she heard Ron ask, now that breakfast had disappeared. "Why were you and Harry saying all those strange words this morning?"

"We were talking in French, Ronald," she sighed before explaining something close enough to the truth for him to accept. "With Harry dating Fleur he wants to be able to talk to her in French, especially if things last and he wants to visit her in France over one of the holidays," she explained carefully, "and if he did that then he'd need to speak the language if they went anywhere."

"Oh," Ron clearly hadn't thought of this. "Everyone in Egypt we saw spoke English."

"Well they _would_ if your brother took you to all the tourist destinations. I think Fleur would rather take Harry to quieter places where they might not speak English. And anyway," she finished in an increasingly irritated voice, "it's _rude_ to go to another country and not even make the effort to speak their language."

Ron shook his head as she turned away to gather her things together. _Mental_ , he thought.

* * *

Fleur and Harry, meanwhile, were walking around the lake again; Fleur had spoken to the group and asked them to keep secret that Harry had spent the night in the carriage; after his willingness to speak up for Fleur in front of the Hogwarts staff, the French were happy to oblige them.

"So, when do I get my reward?" he asked slyly; Fleur shot him an amused look before adopting a thoughtful expression.

"Well," she pondered, "I cannot _fully_ reward you until ze next weekend but…" she closed her eyes and allowed her allure to wash over her; Harry felt its effect and rather than throw it off he embraced it; Fleur began kissing him passionately; they fell onto the ground as they continued to make out.

"Weel zat do you for now?" she asked as she recovered her breath. Harry felt around for his glasses, which had come off at some point during their exertions.

"It should last me until lunchtime," he told her cheekily, earning another kiss. This time he kept his glasses in his hand.

 _Gryffindor Common Room,_

 _Tuesday, 29_ _th_ _March 1994_.

"Hermione?" Harry asked as the witch entered the room looking rather flustered and distracted.

"Oh, hi Harry."

"Are you alright?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes, I'm fine." He looked at her sceptically until she relented. "I've just come from the library." Harry wasn't surprised but couldn't for the life of him work out why that would have upset her. "Viktor was there, along with his fan girls."

 _This_ slightly surprised him, given that Hermione had been his date for the Yule Ball and his hostage for the second task; he thought the fan girls would have been discouraged.

"He doesn't _want_ them following him everywhere," she defended the Bulgarian, "but I suppose they think they can 'win him from me'," she snorted, "not that we're _actually_ together."

"Really?" Harry asked in mild surprise, "it's logical to think there's something going on," and pointed out the previous events that could draw one to that conclusion.

"I suppose I can see why people might think that," she conceded, "but I don't feel _that_ strongly about him. I mean he was a gentleman at the Ball and all but honestly, the thing he'd miss the most?" She shook her head. "Anyway, as soon as the stalkers started to approach him, he came and sat with me; I got a lot of very irate witches staring at me." Then she smiled at him. "Now I know how Fleur must feel," before she chuckled at Harry's bemused face.

"So there's _really_ nothing going on between you and Krum?"

"Uh, definitely not after tonight," she had turned sheepish. When he looked at her expectantly she continued, "Some of the girls followed him to our table so he kissed my cheek. They still didn't get the message so he kissed me on the lips," she blushed.

"Looks like you enjoyed it," he observed with a smirk; she reddened further.

"Not as much as you enjoy your time with Fleur," she hissed back. Far from shutting him up he just grinned and confirmed that he _did_ enjoy spending his time with his French witch. "Anyway he must have thought I was encouraging him… I suppose I wasn't _dis_ couraging him. The last of the stalkers had gone when he put his hand on my…" she was now radiating heat, "my _breast_ ," she whispered, so quiet he could barely hear her. " _Over_ my robes, obviously," she clarified, "but still – _not_ what I wanted him to do. I pushed his hand away. I think he was quite surprised… and even more surprised when I pulled out my wand," she admitted in embarrassment.

"Hermione, he went too far. I'm not surprised you did that," Harry tried to defend her.

"Thanks but maybe _I_ went too far," she looked shame-faced. "I could have just said no, that it was too much or too fast, or simply that I didn't _feel_ that way about him. Instead I… I threatened to cast a cutting curse that would have meant no more Krums."

Part of Harry wanted to laugh and part of him was wincing at the thought. It inevitably brought the memory of the first time Fleur used her wand on that part of his anatomy to the fore. "What is it about witches pointing their wands at a wizard's privates?" he wondered aloud; realising as he did that he probably _shouldn't_ have said it aloud and hoping against hope that his friend wasn't listening.

Of course she was though and immediately raised a questioning eyebrow. "Oh? And just what has Fleur been firing down there, may I ask?" she asked with a smirk.

Trying desperately to decide which of the stories was less embarrassing, Harry opted to tell her, "That first Monday after we'd spent the weekend together, after the task?" Hermione nodded awkwardly. "I uh… didn't _really_ want to get out of bed." When she looked disapprovingly at him he defended himself. "Oh come on, Hermione; put _any_ guy in Hogwarts in my position and _they_ would want to stay in that bed, too!" Hermione couldn't really argue with that statement so she just motioned at him to continue. "Anyway she… she cast a stinging hex at my bare arse to get me to move."

He knew it was a mistake, before he even opened his mouth. Hermione began to giggle, clamping a hand firmly against her mouth to prevent riotous laughter from emerging. At least she was now shaking with laughter rather than the funk/anger she'd been showing when she came back to the common room. "Not funny, Granger!" he complained.

"Of course not," she gasped, holding out her left hand with her palm facing downwards and smacking herself gently on the back of it with her right a few times. "Naughty Hermione, fancy thinking Harry taking a stinging hex to arse was funny. Naughty girl! There can't be anything _less_ funny than Fleur casting stinging hexes at Harry's arse." She shook her head theatrically. "Really, what on earth possessed me to think that Fleur casting a stinging hex at your arse would be funny?"

"Are you quite finished?" he asked.

"I will be by tomorrow," she sniggered again.

"I knew I should have said something else," he muttered gloomily.

"Oh?" Hermione was smiling broadly. "How many other stories do you have to pick from of enraged witches firing hexes at your private parts?"

"I'm going to bed," he grumbled.

"Harry," she caught his hand as he stood up. "I'm sorry, I won't mention Fleur firing a stinging hex at your arse again," she grinned, he didn't. "Well, not tonight anyway. Thank you, you really cheered me up after… what happened."

"My pleasure."

"Really? Stinging hexes to the arse turn you on then?" she asked innocently, then giggled. Harry banged his head on the table. "Come on," she patted the back of his head, "time to practice our French again."

 _Tuesday, 5_ _th_ _April 1994_.

"Hermione! Ron!" Harry called in an urgent whisper as he rushed into the room; it was late evening and he looked breathless and agitated so Hermione hurried over. Ron stuffed a couple more sweets into his mouth, made a move in his game of chess against Seamus and gambolled over to the corner the other two had co-opted.

"What's the crisis?" the red-head asked.

Harry began his tale, the hedges growing on the Quidditch pitch to make the maze for the final task (Ron was upset by this), Krum lying in wait for him after he'd said goodnight to Fleur, how the Bulgarian had asked him for a favour (he glossed over that for now but gave Hermione's hand a surreptitious squeeze under the table; she gave a hurried nod in understanding, then talked about the strange appearance of Barty Crouch, how he was talking to trees and thinking that they were Percy, then struggling to string two words together when talking about his son, Voldemort and wanting to speak to Dumbledore. He'd run off to get Dumbledore but by the time they'd returned Crouch was gone and Krum was stunned, claiming that Crouch had done it. Harry confided his scepticism at this, given that he was between madness and struggling to say anything, let alone cast curses. They decided to speak to Moody, who currently held the Marauders' Map, the next day before Ron went back to his game.

"What did Viktor want?" Hermione asked when they were alone.

"He asked me if I knew what he'd done to upset you so much. He sent his apologies with me for…" he glanced at his friend's bust, "his inappropriate behaviour and hopes to have a chance to make amends with you."

"Hmph," she snorted. "Well like I say I didn't think things were going in that direction with him but I suppose I should go and talk to him and at least accept his apology and offer one of my own for what I did afterwards."

"You know, Hermione, I'm surprised that you reacted the way you did," Harry observed casually, albeit with a mischievous gleam in his green eyes.

"Oh?" There was definitely a threatening edge to her voice as she continued. "And what makes you think that, Potter?"

"Well Granger," he shot back confidently, "I'd have thought having a tall, dark, strong man ravish you in a library would be one of your guilty fantasies."

Hermione blushed like a beacon, leaving Harry thinking he'd struck gold.

 _Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom,_

 _Wednesday, 6_ _th_ _April 1994_.

"Professor!" Harry called from the corridor as he saw Moody chivvying his charges out of class at the end of their lesson.

"Potter," he nodded gruffly, gesturing for him to join him in the now-empty room.

"Did you find him? Crouch I mean?" he asked without preamble.

"No, he wasn't anywhere near Krum when I got there."

"Hmm, did you use the map?"

"Of course I did. Took a leaf out of your book and summoned it from my office."

"So where did he go?" Harry mused. "He didn't look up to going very far very fast when I saw him."

Moody shrugged. "All I know is he wasn't there when I arrived."

"Speaking of the map," Harry began, "could I have it back please?"

Moody frowned at him, not wanting to give it up. In a flash, motivated by a touch of panic, his wand was out and pointing at the boy. "Imperio!" he cried; he remembered Harry was able to shake off the curse but thought it would buy him a few seconds to get rid of him.

It was the first time Harry had felt the sensation since experiencing Fleur's allure; this experience was altogether less pleasurable, which only made that small voice in the back of his mind all the louder. In an instant he had thrown off Moody's curse and his own wand was in his hand and pointed at the former Auror.

"Why?" he demanded.

Moody just laughed. "I've not seen power like that in a long time, Potter. You'll go far. As for the map, I still need it." He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. A thoughtful Harry frowned at his retreating back.

 _Great Hall_

"Professor, could I speak to you for a moment?" he asked McGonagall as she was preparing to leave after lunch.

"If you make it quick, Potter," she replied curtly, not too surprised to see that Fleur had moved to his side.

"Were you aware that Professor Moody had used the _Imperious_ curse on his 4th year classes early on in the school year?"

"What? Dumbledore said he would teach you all about curses, and the unforgivables, but using one on a student?" She was looking at him in disbelief.

"I wanted to let you know he tried it again on me this morning." This wasn't news to Fleur, nor was it a surprise to the Veela that he had thrown it off so easily.

"Why would he do that?" she asked in surprise.

"He… borrowed something from me a few weeks ago; I asked for it back and he put the curse on me. I threw it off but I thought you should know, both as my Head of House and as Deputy Head."

"Thank you, Potter, I will have to decide what to do with this information."

Harry watched her head off to her class (with Fleur close behind as she had Transfiguration after lunch) suspecting that this was the last he would ever hear about the incident, though he reasoned that it was additional evidence to support his desired move to France.

 _Divination Class_

Harry grimaced in pain as he woke from his dream; the vision had seemed so real as he'd seen Voldemort torturing Wormtail, heard the Cruciatus curse cast and experienced a glimmer of the Dark Lord's malevolent pleasure at his servant's suffering.

"Harry? Are you alright, mate?" Ron asked in concern.

"I'm fine, just need a drink of water or something," he told him as Professor Trelawney shuffled over and tried to pry details from him; she seemed disappointed when he fled the room citing his need for a drink or some headache medicine as he felt a little pain as an aftershock of the vision.

 _Transfiguration Class_

"'Arry!" Fleur gasped quietly. She couldn't tell how she knew he was experiencing pain but somehow her magic was in pain – and she could tell it was centred in his head and his scar. She was on her feet in a second and muttered, "Salle de bains," at the girl sitting next to her as she made her way towards the door.

"Where are you going, Miss Delacour?" McGonagall asked sternly.

"Ze toilette, Professeur," she answered stiffly; she had not forgiven the witch for continuing the belief that Harry had received detentions over the Malfoy incident.

"And you can't wait until after class?"

"Non," she replied simply, leaving the room without another word; McGonagall simmered angrily as she departed.

Fleur raced through the school, inexplicably feeling herself drawn towards where Harry was going; she found him a couple of corridors away from the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's Office. He turned when he heard footsteps running towards them, shocked to see that it was Fleur. He automatically opened his arms and she flung herself into them.

"Oh, mon cher, I felt your pain," she explained. "What 'appened?"

He led her into a deserted classroom and explained what had happened, starting with the previous evening and then what had just happened to him.

"And Voldymort said 'ee ees dead?"

"Yes, he said something about Wormtail's mistake being fixed and someone was dead. And that I'd be fed to his snake." Fleur tightened her embrace of him, pulling him against her chest. While Harry certainly enjoyed it he was worried that he'd lose the ability to think before too long.

"Could zey be connected?" she asked thoughtfully, "Ze vision and what 'appened last night? Could eet be zat Crouch ees ze one 'oo ees dead? Zat he came 'ere to warn Dumblydore and was keeled before 'ee could?"

"Maybe," Harry regretfully pulled away from her welcoming bosom as he pondered the suggestion and its implications. "That would mean Voldemort has a Death Eater stationed here who's in contact with him."

"Weech would make sense since Moody said zat someone wanted to keel you using zis tournament," she whispered fearfully. "You must be very careful 'Arry, especially in ze third task."

"I will," he assured her, holding her close. "How did you know how to find me and what did you mean you felt my pain?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I was in class and zen suddenly my magic told me you were 'urting and I knew where to find you."

"I'll ask Hermione, she'll know what happened," he chuckled, "or at least how to find out."

"Your friend ees very smart, 'Arry," Fleur agreed.

 _Mademoiselle Delacour's room,_

 _Beauxbatons Carriage,_

 _Saturday, 9_ _th_ _April 1994_.

Hermione had no definite ideas but had dragged Harry and Fleur to the library for the previous couple of nights, much to Ron's annoyance. The 4th years had quickly completed their homework (with some help from Fleur) and then scoured the library for any effects that were similar to the one Fleur had described. Privately she felt they were wasting their time, that it was something related to her Veela magic, but she didn't want to discourage them, and felt that they just _might_ hit upon something.

Saturday night saw Harry and Fleur, as usual, taking dinner together in her room. Harry had had to endure the knowing looks from his dorm mates and the other Beauxbatons students at lunch, while Fleur had brushed the stares and smirks off confidently, making sure to edge closer to Harry or to kiss him any time someone suggested anything.

To Harry's surprise he could barely keep his hands off her when they'd retired to the couch, and Fleur seemed equally eager to contact every square inch of bare flesh she could find or uncover, meaning that the couple were both naked within a few minutes of making it to the couch. A look and a nod were all that they needed to take things straight to Fleur's bed; foreplay was forgotten as she pulled Harry on top of her and eagerly received his manhood.

The feelings were a little different, Harry realised, as the pleasure pulsed through him; it felt stronger somehow. As he looked at her he saw her eyes widen; following her gaze down to where their bodies intersected he could see a pink glow in her abdomen and a blue one in his.

"That must be what the others saw a few weeks ago," he stated.

"Zis 'as 'appened before?" she asked; he turned back to look at them.

"One night," he disclosed, "I was asleep and something woke the other guys up; they said a blue glow was coming from my bed."

"I sought I dreamed eet when I saw a peenk glow, maybe not and eet was real," she commented as comprehension hit her.

Fuelled by raw need, Harry ignored the glows as he began to thrust faster and harder, every stroke seemed to increase Fleur's pleasure as well as his own and their glows intensified, though the couple's only focus was on their own release. Their orgasms came simultaneously as the glows brightened before disappearing as quickly as they'd arrived. A breathless Harry slumped on top of Fleur before rolling off her and snuggling close.

"What were those glows?" he asked.

"Eet all makes sense now," Fleur began, "our magics 'ave connected. Eet ees not a _bond_ or anysing like that," she hastened to add, "you can walk away any time you like but… my Veela magic ees compatible wiz yours and yours 'as agreed."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, eet means zat eef eizzer of us are 'urt, ze ozzer weel know, like last week when you 'ad your vision in class. Apart from zat – and ze sex being fantastique," she smiled blissfully, "eet means nossing for you."

"You say _for me_ ," Harry picked up on the wording she'd used, "what does it mean for _you_?"

Fleur didn't really want to burden him with the whole truth. "Eet means you can satisfy me," she began, smiling at his cocky smirk, "and zat would reduce my drive to mate wiz ozzers. Eef you are not around I would miss you like crazy but not be drawn to be wiz anuzzer."

"And if I just wasn't around? If we weren't together anymore?" he pressed; she sighed.

"I could find love wiz anuzzer but eet ees un'eard of for a Veela to connect wiz _two_ wizards. Zat may be because most times when a wizard connects wiz a Veela zey don't _want_ to be wiz anyone else…"

"I can understand that," Harry smiled, kissing her cheek and nuzzling her neck; his breath on her sensitive skin was driving her crazy with renewed lust.

"So many mate for life when zey connect meaning not much ees known about a refusal; eet ees entirely possible zat I could love anuzzer."

"But maybe you couldn't," he added, briefly leaving her neck alone; she shrugged. Harry looked at his lover and realised there wasn't much of a decision to make. "Well I suppose we should speak to Madame Maxime about my transfer in the morning then," he decided; Fleur smiled. "This glow and the increased pleasure we both just experienced," he prompted, "will that happen every time we make love?"

She grinned wickedly. "I 'ope so."

"Maybe we should find out," he suggested innocently; Fleur was happy to agree (the glow wasn't as intense this time but their pleasure was definitely increased as they came together again).

 _Sunday, 10_ _th_ _April 1994_.

Fleur knocked on the Headmistress's door after they returned from breakfast; her other hand was holding Harry's. He listened as the two conversed in French, following around 80% of the conversation (though he obviously already knew pretty much what Fleur was going to say).

"So you want to come to school wiz us?" Maxime asked, speaking to him for the first time.

"Oui, madame," he confirmed before switching to English. "I think it would be in the best interests of my education as my Potions and History education are utterly inadequate here and Defence teaching has been disjointed due to a number of different teachers during my time here. There is also the issue of prejudice against non-purebloods which you witnessed recently."

"Zey are good academic reasons," the Headmistress agreed; she then gave Fleur a shrewd look before turning back to him. "I expect you would want to travel een and out by Portkey, non?"

"I thought that would be best, though I understand Fleur also has a bed in one of the dorms so there may be the option to stay over on occasion?"

The half-giantess smiled at him. "Zat could be arranged. I warn you now zough, Monsieur Potter, some of your subjects – 'Ogwarts ees well be'ind our school." He nodded, they were, after all, the reasons he'd cited, "and also – your Ministry and Dumblydore weel not want 'Arry Potter to leave 'Ogwarts and Britain. Be prepared for a fight!"

"Could we complete all the forms and then only present them to Dumbledore on the day that you were leaving?" he suggested. "Then I could travel back with you in the carriage and be in France before they get organised to try and stop me?"

The two French witches smiled; they hadn't realised he could be so devious. Maxime collected the appropriate forms and Harry, with Fleur's help, completed them there and then.

"All except your guardian's signature, 'Arry," Fleur noted.

"I can get that within a couple of days," he promised; he took her hand and they headed to the Owlery to see Hedwig, only to be stopped by one of her classmates.

"Harry is joining us at school?" she asked her countryman.

"Yes," Fleur confirmed, "and he will fit in well."

"Why is that?"

"Well, he _does_ have a _beau baton_ ," she giggled. Harry didn't need his limited French, just the way the girls were looking at him and sniggering, to know that they were talking about him. Fleur tugged on his hand and they continued on their way.

 _Library,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Hermione scowled at her parchment as someone joined her at the table. Even though she'd apologised to Viktor, and accepted his apology, she didn't really want to talk to him, or anyone else, while she was working. She looked up, surprised to meet the smiling face of Harry Potter; Fleur had taken the seat next to him without her even realising it.

"Harry! How was your weekend?"

She saw the couple exchange knowing looks and grimaced. "It was great, Hermione. I'm going to tell you something but you have to swear to secrecy."

"I swear," she said immediately and automatically, suspecting she knew what it was. She was surprised when Fleur waved her wand a little.

"Privacy charms," she shrugged. "Eet would not do for prying ears to 'ear zis."

"I filled in my papers today; so long as Sirius signs them, and I'm sure he will – I just sent them to him with Hedwig – it's official; I'm moving to Beauxbatons next year," he announced excitedly. "We'll give the forms to McGonagall on the day the carriage leaves for France."

"Wow, that's… wow," Hermione was happy for her friend but it was tinged with _a lot_ of sadness at the thought of her best friend leaving her behind.

"We're doing it this way because we're worried that if Fudge gets wind of this the Ministry won't want me to leave. Dumbledore might think it's a blow to his, and Hogwarts', prestige and between them they could change the law between now and then to force me to stay," Harry explained; Hermione couldn't fault their reasoning.

"Do you think Madame Maxime would let _me_ go as well?" she asked Fleur timidly. They looked surprised so she continued, "Well the academic reasons you gave apply to me as well, plus this place would be a lot less fun – and a lot more dangerous – without you around, Harry."

"I thought I was the one who got you into all the danger, Hermione," he joked; she smiled.

"Only _some_ of it; as what happened with Viktor showed I can get into enough trouble and danger by myself."

"I sink you need to viseet ze carriage one evening, 'Ermi-nee," Fleur smiled after a quick glance at her boyfriend.

* * *

"That was nice of you," Harry told Fleur as they walked back towards the carriage, having left Hermione at the Fat Lady's portrait.

"She ees your best friend, of course I would want 'er to be around you," she replied; by unspoken agreement they weren't saying anything that could overtly give away their plans, just in case.

Harry's voice dropped to a whisper as Fleur entered the carriage; to be extra safe he stepped inside and closed the door. "Are you going to speak to Maxime beforehand?"

"I weel talk wiz 'er in ze morning before breakfast," she promised, "and weel let you know."

"Bon nuit, Fleur," he kissed her.

"Goodnight 'Arry."

 _Tuesday, 12_ _th_ _April 1994_

Hedwig returned with the signed forms, much to Harry's delight. There was also a short note from Sirius.

 _Moving to France to be with your girl? Sounds like a good idea to me. It would also be far easier for me to hide in a larger country and well away from Fudge or his Dementors. I hope we can get a small place to live there, one with enough room for a kennel_.

Harry smiled at the response; he quickly stuffed the papers into his robes, nodded to Hermione (who then asked Hedwig to make a similar delivery to _her_ parents) and squeezed Fleur's hand. That evening they delivered the forms to Maxime, who sent a copy to the French Ministry.

 _Great Hall,_

 _Friday 15_ _th_ _April 1994_.

Hedwig returned at breakfast; she wasn't carrying forms, which surprised and upset Hermione as the snowy owl landed in front of her. She thanked the bird and removed the letter from her leg.

"What did they say?" Harry asked when she set it down.

"They didn't say _no_ but they want to talk about it in person," she replied.

"Well that's understandable," he reasoned quietly; he glanced around the table, other than Fleur listening in nobody else appeared too interested. Ron had noticed she made mail but breakfast now had his full attention. Harry stroked Hedwig's feathers for a few moments before she left for the Owlery. Confident they weren't being overheard, he continued in a low voice, "Their only daughter tells them she wants to leave a school they can't see, let alone visit, and move to one in another country. It's only natural they'd want to know what was going on before letting you go."

She nodded. "Anyway, the train leaves for the Easter holidays tomorrow so I can go home for a couple of weeks and hopefully come back with my form signed," she smiled at Fleur.

"I weel let Madame Maxime know," she assured the younger witch.

"What are we going to tell Ron?" Hermione asked quietly; the redhead didn't hear his name being mentioned as he was involved in an animated discussion with Seamus.

"Good question," Harry replied.

"Maybe don't say anything until I get back," Hermione suggested. "That way we can make him take an oath tied to a tongue-tying jinx so that he _can't_ say anything to anyone."

"Oui, ze fewer people 'oo know, ze better," Fleur concurred. "I could cast ze spell but maybe eet ees best for you two to tell 'eem ze news togezzer."

Hermione gave her a grateful nod and the trio finally turned to their breakfast, though Hermione wore a broad smile all day at the prospect of seeing her parents again so soon.

 _Gryffindor Common Room_

"What will you be doing for the next two weeks?" Hermione asked as she sat with Harry doing some homework; she was impressed with his more intensive study habits since the tournament came about and especially since hooking up with Fleur. Hermione suspected that she had warned him that he needed to work hard to catch up to the year group he'd be joining, or, she thought with a hint of unease, she had a _really_ good reward system for him.

Harry got a dreamy look on his face as he processed her question; she swatted him on the arm. "I mean _apart_ from Fleur," she snapped impatiently.

"Probably a lot of study," he admitted. "Both jinxes and hexes for the task and also I'm going to work with Fleur and some of the others on my Potions and a bit of History, see if I can catch up to where I need to be in those subjects."

Hermione's face lit up at his words. "Well you have to tell me everything you learn so that I can try them too when I get back," she enthused.

"I _should_ really spend some time with Ron as well," he noted, "I've not seen that much of him since the second task. I'll let him beat me at chess a few times to make it up to him."

"Yes," she grinned, "you'll _let_ him win."

"Shut it, Granger."

 _29_ _th_ _April 1994_.

Hermione returned with the other students late on Friday; she wasn't surprised to see Harry, Ron and Fleur sat at dinner, though Ron still seemed to be struggling to look at the French Veela.

"How was your time at home?" Harry asked as she slid into the seat next to Fleur.

"It was great, I spoke to my parents and…" she slipped some parchment to Fleur, who gave her a knowing smile. "They didn't take much convincing," she added.

* * *

"So they went for it quite happily?" Harry asked. To Ron's annoyance, Hermione accompanied Harry in walking Fleur back to the Beauxbatons carriage; he headed off to Gryffindor Tower with the others, trying to talk Dean into playing chess with him.

"When I told them it was a school that I could travel in and out of every day so I could spend my evenings with them they jumped at the chance. Especially if we could arrange a Portkey for them so that they can go to work and back instantaneously."

"Ze Ministry would 'ave to approve eet," Fleur cautioned. "Eef you lived in France zen eet would be more likely zat you could get it done."

"Oh I'm sure they'd _love_ to live in the south of France and Portkey to work and back," Hermione's eyes shone with enthusiasm.

"Zen we will talk to Madame Maxime about eet," she promised.

"Maybe you could come and visit some evenings," she suggested to Harry. "I mean, I know _Sirius_ ," she mouthed, "is hoping that you can live together somewhere but you'd be more than welcome to come for dinner every now and again. You too, Fleur," she offered his girlfriend.

"Zat sounds very good, 'Ermi-nee," she nodded gratefully, "I'm sure we weel all see plenty of each ozzer when eet 'appens."

They handed the forms to Maxime; the half-Giantess promised to make enquiries about Portkeys for the Grangers and that she would speak to her later about it.

 _Transfiguration Classroom,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"Ron," Harry began as he and Hermione took the seats next to him; the Common Room had been busy when they had returned so they'd urged their friend to take a walk with them.

"What?" he asked. Harry looked nervously at Hermione, who took up the discussion. "I need you to promise not to say _anything_ to _anyone_ about what we're about to tell you," she pulled out her wand and cast locking charms on the door and sound-proofing charms on it and the walls.

"Paranoid, much?" he scoffed; she glared at him, cast a couple of other spells to ensure nobody was hiding in the room with them before turning back to the redhead, pointing her wand at him, which made his recoil nervously.

"Sorry Ron but you _have_ to make a promise and I _have_ to seal it with a spell."

Reluctantly he made the oath and Hermione cast her tongue-tying jinx with it. She then dropped her bombshell. "Harry and I are moving to Beauxbatons next year."

"What? Since when?" he rounded on them.

"I love Fleur, it's easier for me to be with her in France than here," he explained honestly.

"I found out that the classes there, especially Potions and History, are better than we get here so I'm going too."

"What am I meant to do?"

"You could ask if you can transfer," Harry suggested.

"How?" he snarled. "The stupid oath I just took means I can't tell anyone _why_ I'd want to go," he pointed out. "Mum and dad won't let me leave Ginny here for the next three years."

"We only need to keep it a secret until the start of the summer," Hermione tried to calm him down. "Once Harry's safely in France and the Ministry can't try and force him to stay…"

"You think they will?" Ron asked.

"Do you think they _won't_?" he countered. Ron closed his mouth for a second and shrugged.

"Anyway," Hermione continued, "once Harry's there we can lift the oath and you can spend the summer asking your parents to let you go with us if you want."

"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry said, "it's not that I _want_ to move there really, to leave you behind here, but I _want_ to be closer to Fleur – and being able to be a day student there, living mostly outside the school, will really help with that."

Ron nodded; he was still upset but he could understand his friends' dilemmas, and could also see that they weren't trying to exclude him, though he know it would be next to impossible to persuade his parents to let him go there, even if he somehow learnt French in the interim.

"So why the oath?" he asked curiously.

"We want as few people to know as possible, we especially don't want Dumbledore or anyone else on the staff to hear about this," Harry explained, "as we think they'd try and stop me going."

Ron nodded again as he could see the logic in that argument.

 _Great Hall,_

 _Friday, 24_ _th_ _June 1994_.

The day of the third task had finally arrived; Harry felt confident as he got up and dressed. His training had gone well, he'd learnt and practiced a huge array of spells and was quite proficient in them. He also had a little plan up his sleeve that would help him achieve his main aim – survival.

"Potter, Delacour," McGonagall spoke to them at the Gryffindor table; things still weren't overly civil between the Head of Gryffindor and the Beauxbatons in general (and Fleur in particular), "the champions' families are gathered in the ante-room; you can see them after breakfast."

Harry was surprised that he'd been informed; he wasn't anticipating the Dursleys showing up, nor did he think Sirius would make an appearance. He figured McGonagall must have mentioned it because Fleur's family was there and that they were eager to meet Fleur's boyfriend.

It seemed that the French witch could read his mind; as he finished breakfast and wished his friends luck in their History of Magic exam, she laced her fingers with his. "Are you ready to meet my parents?" she asked jovially. "Watch out for ma mere's fireballs." She then laughed at his panicked expression before giving him a gentle kiss. "Come, mon cher, zey weel love you, like I do," and she led him into the room.

To Harry's surprise Arthur, Molly and Bill Weasley were standing there. Molly called, "Surprise!" and opened her arms to receive him; he looked from her to Fleur and the Veela gave him a little shove.

"Go on," she urged, "I weel talk to my family first."

To Gabbi's immense disappointment, Harry went to greet the Weasleys while her sister spoke to her and their parents. Harry had a brief chat with Ron's family before excusing himself because he needed to meet his 'in-laws'; Molly seemed to frown at this but Harry either didn't notice or didn't care. He was busy watching Fleur's mother studying him intently.

"'Ello 'Arry," Gabbi bounced into his arms; he gave her a kiss on the cheek and she giggled (but didn't blush, leading him to speculate that Fleur was correct that Veelas are indeed incapable of it, not that he was going to stop trying to make her).

"My muzzer would like to talk about ze connection," Fleur muttered as he set the younger girl down again.

The talk wasn't as bad as he'd feared; she didn't add too much to what Fleur had already told him and what they'd already surmised. Gabbi did seem disappointed that Harry was taken, even by her sister, but chatted happily with him, thanking him again for saving her from the lake in the second task.

Fleur's father didn't even try to be threatening; he joked that since Fleur can shoot fireballs at will that _he_ doesn't have to threaten to hurt boyfriends who upset his little girl. Having seen Fleur's transformation, Harry could agree that he didn't want to be on the receiving end of her ire.

"Did your mum say much to you?" he asked when they left them later on; they had also spent a little time talking with the Weasleys and were now heading back to the Hall for lunch and to see how Harry's friends' exam had gone.

"She said she was surprised zat I 'ad found a connection so early; most Veela do not do so until full maturity at ze earliest." She shrugged. "She was not surprised zat we are lovers zhough."

"Gabbi seemed disappointed," he observed with a small smile; thinking back on his first trip to the Burrow and Ginny's reactions around him; he really hoped that a repeat wouldn't be in order when he was staying with the Delacours.

Fleur laughed.

"Ah, mon cher, ze boy 'oo leeved ees famous to us as well. She 'as dreamed of meeting you, and zen you saved 'er. She 'as a crush on you and ees upset wiz me for snaring you first. Anyway, ma mere says zat because I 'ave not reached full maturity, zat ees why ze connection did not 'appen fully immediately," she explained, "eet took us zinking about each ozzer for eet to start to form, zen when you were 'urting from ze vision eet strengthened. Zen when we made love our magiques connected fully."

"So what happens now?"

"We weel see ze glow until ze connection is complete," she explained. "Zat ees usually when ze Veela ees wiz 'er first child." Harry swallowed nervously at the thought of getting her pregnant and becoming a father. "Do not worry, mon cher," she kissed him tenderly, "we weel glow for a _long_ time yet."

 _Quidditch Pitch_

Harry held hands with Fleur as they walked from the school to the pitch. Hermione and Ron flanked the couple until they reached the stands, where they would have to go to the spectators' area. Hermione pulled him into a hug and wished him luck, kissing him on the cheek as she pulled away. With only a tiny hesitation she hugged Fleur as well (Ron thought of doing the same but started drooling like an idiot when he looked at the French beauty; Hermione eventually led him by the ear over to their seats). From the corner of his eye Harry saw a large black dog skulking just inside the Forbidden Forest. He recognised Padfoot at once and swore the dog winked at him before retreating from sight.

Bagman announced the start of the task; Harry and Cedric made their way into the maze. To the Hufflepuff's surprise, Harry leaned casually against the wall of the maze once they were inside.

"What are you doing, Harry?" he asked.

"Waiting for Fleur," he replied. "I'd rather complete the task with her than go on without her."

"Even though you had a head start on the others?" He just nodded. "Shall we make it a trio?" Cedric offered.

"No," Harry shook his head. "For Hogwarts to have its best chance, you need to go; Krum won't wait." They heard the cannon shot signifying the Bulgarian would be joining them. "Go!" he urged.

Cedric nodded, turned and plunged into the maze. Harry was instantly proved correct as Krum passed him with barely a glance, heading down the path Cedric had just taken.

Finally the cannon sounded again and Fleur strode purposefully into the maze. She stopped when she saw her lover. "'Arry! You waited for me?"

"Oui, ma belle," he smiled and hooked his right arm through her left. "I'd hold hands but we both need our right hand for our wand," he explained with a smile; she giggled but agreed with his logic.

The couple worked well together; it didn't take long for them to negotiate the limited number of obstacles they encountered. Suddenly an anguished cry rent the night.

"Cedric!" Harry cried, recognising his voice; he sped up, heading in the direction of the shout, with Fleur hot on his heels, before stopping cold at the sight that greeted them. Krum was using the Cruciatus curse on Cedric.

"Stupefy!" Harry yelled, firing the spell at the Bulgarian; he was sent flying but the spell was lifted. Cedric shook in pain with the after-effects of the curse as Harry tried to help him to his feet. He heard Fleur shout "Incarcerous" before she joined the two boys.

"Stand guard; make sure no monsters attack us," she urged; Harry looked at her.

"Are you sure?"

"Do you know any 'ealing spells?" she asked; he shook his head. "Zen you watch out for ze monsters or for Krum getting free; I will tend to Cedrique." Unable to counter her argument, Harry nodded and swept the area, wand illuminating the gloom up and down the passageway while Fleur worked on the injured Cedric.

Professor Moody was one of the teachers patrolling the outside of the maze; when his magic eye surveyed the scene he whispered "Imperio," pointing his wand at the French witch. Her Veela magic easily rejected the curse so he turned to Harry, repeating the spell with as much power as he could muster. Fleur saw her lover's eyes glaze over briefly; she left the rapidly recovering Cedric and kissed him tenderly, helping him to throw off the curse easily. They then turned to Cedric, putting themselves between him and the side of the maze, much to Moody's frustration. After sending up red stars to call for someone to retrieve Krum (theorising that he, too, had been put under the curse), the trio progressed together through the maze, finally reaching the centre where the cup stood gleaming.

"Well, it is the _Triwizard_ Cup," Harry said as they approached, "and there _are_ three handles."

"It would be rude not to," Cedric agreed. Each stretched out a hand to take a handle and on a count of three they took the cup – and vanished as the Portkey activated. On the edge of the forest the black dog whimpered nervously.

 _Little Hangleton Cemetry_

The three champions landed in a heap from the unexpected journey. "I do not sink zis ees part of the task," Fleur whispered nervously, squinting in the late evening sun; Cedric looked at her. "I sink eet ees whatever zey planned to 'arm 'Arry, like Moody said when we were made champions." She edged closer to her beau.

Cedric nodded at her conclusion. He raised his wand and started looking around the area; the others did likewise.

"There," Harry whispered as he spotted a large cauldron. A man, carrying some sort of bundle, was hunched by it. They cautiously edged towards him.

"Kill the others!" they heard an ethereal voice hiss. Harry instinctively pushed Fleur to the ground; her momentum caused her to trip Cedric and the green light of the killing curse passed less than an inch from him. The champions were not idle, however, and three stunners simultaneously flew at the man; he tried to shield them but before long he was overmatched and down in a heap.

Harry cast a summoning charm, dragging the man along the ground while Fleur kept watch on the graveyard and Cedric edged towards the cauldron.

"Pettigrew," Harry whispered as he unmasked the man. Fleur, meanwhile, watched as a large snake slinked towards them; she fired a few sparks at it to try and scare it off but it ignored them. She fired a stunner at it, which it twisted away from with an angry hiss. The Veela then fired a cutting curse at it, inflicting an injury on the large reptile. As it reared up to attack she wasn't idle; fuelled by anger and the drive to protect her mate Fleur morphed effortlessly into her avian form and began raining fireballs on the snake. One struck its head and it slumped to the ground, dead, causing Harry to sink to his knees as his scar hurt. As it died an horrific shriek could be heard from it and the bundle seemed to cry out as well. Cedric, only a yard or so from it at this point, recoiled in surprise and horror as the red-black creature within was exposed. He saw it reaching for a wand and in his panic aimed a kick at it. The creature flew against the cauldron with a sickening crack; it slumped unmoving to the ground. Harry winced again at a pain in his scar; Fleur felt his pain and reverted to her usual form, pulling him into her arms and comforting him.

Cedric returned to the couple's side, breathing heavily. "What the _hell_ was that?" he wondered.

"This is Peter Pettigrew." Cedric frowned in comprehension of the name; like the rest of the wizarding world he believed Pettigrew had died at the wand of Sirius Black many years ago. "It's true," Harry insisted, "Sirius Black is innocent; _this_ is the real traitor."

"We can explain later," Fleur panted, adrenaline leaving her system. The Hufflepuff champion nodded.

"And _that_ ," Harry shot a disgusted look at the creature by the cauldron; it was already starting to decay and disintegrate, "was Voldemort." Cedric flinched at the name and retched at the thought; he added it to the list of questions he wanted to ask but had to postpone asking them for a while as black smoke began to rise from the creature by the cauldron and Harry clutched his scar again.

Fleur's arms enveloping him from behind seemed to dull the pain; he raised his wand, pointed it at the smoky essence of Voldemort and, drawing on his feelings for the woman holding him, cried, "Expecto Patronum!"

Both Cedric and Fleur were stunned as Prongs burst forth from Harry's wand; the silver defender stood proudly between the teens and Voldemort before charging their foe. As the Patronus pierced the wispy Dark Lord he shrieked and fled.

"You can cast a Patronus?" Cedric asked in shock; Harry bit back a flippant response and just nodded instead.

Cedric had yet another question to add to his list but one was particularly pressing.

"Shouldn't we get out of here?"

Harry nodded again; with Cedric's help he hauled Pettigrew back to the Triwizard Cup; Harry kept hold of the traitor while each teen grasped a handle and they disappeared from the cemetery.

 _Quidditch Pitch,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

There were amazed members of staff when the quartet appeared at the entrance of the maze.

"What? Who? How?" Dumbledore stumbled as he saw them. Minister Fudge stood next to them, staring at the fourth, stunned member of the group in amazement.

"It _can't_ be," he cried. "Pettigrew died _years_ ago; Sirius Black killed him."

"That's what I tried to tell you last year, Minister," Harry sighed wearily. "He's clearly alive. I don't know _where_ the cup took us but he was there, along with some baby-sized thing that contained Voldemort," he ignored the collective winces from the assembled adults, other than Dumbledore. "Cedric took care of it," he nodded at his friend.

"I think we need to hear the whole story somewhere away from all this commotion," Dumbledore suggested as people, including Ron, Hermione, the Diggorys and Delacours, were rapidly descending on their position.

"Avada Kedavra!" A bolt of green light stuck the prone form of Pettigrew; everyone turned to see Moody. "One fewer Death Eater to worry about," he declared gruffly before turning and hobbling back towards the castle. The game was up, he knew that given that the champions had returned with Pettigrew; the most he could hope for was that his master was ok and that the Ministry was incompetent enough to let him escape and get to his side. He was reasonably sure that this would be the case, up until he was hit by four stunners, one each from Dumbledore and the three champions.

"Minister," a shaken Harry began as they started the journey to the castle, "clearly Sirius Black did not murder Peter Pettigrew. Surely this is enough evidence for you to rescind the kiss-on-sight order and have him questioned about the circumstances of my parents' death?" He smiled at the black dog who was walking a few feet from the group.

"Well, yes, I suppose so," he agreed. "I'll see that the order is lifted and appeal to Black to turn himself in." An amused Padfoot followed them into the school and sneaked into the room Dumbledore led the group (and levitated the stunned Moody) into.

To their surprise, Moody suddenly began to change before their eyes; Dumbledore and Fudge recognised Barty Crouch Junior and understood who had put Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire. The champions then told their story, including Krum and their suspicions that he had been imperioused (and that Harry and Fleur had as well) and what had happened in the graveyard.

"Do you know where this graveyard was, Harry?" Dumbledore urged; he shook his head.

"The house seemed vaguely familiar to me but I don't know where it was."

"You saw it before? Over the summer perhaps?" Harry nodded.

"How did you know?"

"We have a mutual correspondent," the Headmaster explained cautiously while shooting a look at Padfoot. "I think it's safe for him to make an appearance?"

The dog morphed back into Sirius Black, who immediately thanked the Minister for lifting the kiss-on-sight order and pledged to co-operate fully with his questioning.

"But first," Dumbledore turned to the still-stunned Crouch Junior, "I believe we must question our imposter." He had Snape supply Veritaserum before casting Incarcerous and Enervate on the man. The whole story then spilled out, how Pettigrew had found Voldemort hiding in Albania, how Bertha Jorkins had stumbled across them, leading to his knowledge of the impending Tri-Wizard tournament, how she also knew Crouch Jr was being held by his father under the Imperious curse and how Voldemort and Pettigrew had come and freed him, sending him to Hogwarts in Moody's stead, putting Harry's name in the cup and guiding him through the tasks.

"But I didn't foresee him and the Veela," the man spat, "and him being pathetic enough to give up the chance to win so he could go through the maze with her. I had to watch, make sure they had an easy time of it and caught up to the others. I imperioused the Bulgarian to take care of Diggory, leaving their path clear and expecting my master to be able to kill the half-breed before they knew what was happening. But they fought him off. The bitch repelled my imperious so I put everything I had into one on Potter; I was going to make him kill her, then Diggory, then take the cup. He'd know he'd kill them, he'd have nothing to fight for and let my master kill him," he declared maniacally. "But _he_ threw it off as well, then they got to the cup as a trio; the plan failed."

"Barty Crouch Junior, you will receive the Dementor's Kiss before nightfall," Fudge declared sombrely. "Mr Black, your turn."

Sirius willingly took the truth serum and told his tale regarding the night of the Potters' death. Fleur's embrace kept Harry upright, though tears streamed down his face as his godfather spoke of that night.

"Mr Black, on returning to the Ministry I will have you declared innocent," the Minister promised. "I will also look into compensating you for your unlawful incarceration."

"Thank you Minister," Sirius replied.

"As for you three," Fudge turned to the champions, "you have done us all a great service here tonight."

"Yes, maybe now _I'll_ be famous for being the one to conquer You-know-who," Cedric joked; Harry smiled.

"You're welcome to it," he told him. "I'm happy just being the boy-who-loves-his-Veela," he grinned at a smiling Fleur and sealed it with a kiss, until the moment was spoiled by Sirius mock-retching behind them. "I learnt some _very_ good hexes for this task," he warned his godfather; the room dissolved into relieving laughter.

 _Gryffindor Common Room_

"Do you think he'll ever come back?" Hermione asked, as she, Harry, Ron and Fleur sat together. A party was happening around them but they were trying to partake as little as possible (which was difficult as it was in Harry's honour, though they were celebrating Fleur's part as well).

"I really don't know," Harry replied, "he got as close as he did, this ritual being planned, because people who are loyal to him found him and set everything up for him. We got lucky and we stopped him returning." He sighed as he thought about it. "It would need someone else risking what they did to try and bring him back. It _could_ happen but it's a lot less likely now Pettigrew and Crouch are out of the way."

"Dad says Fudge is going to try to play it down inside the Ministry," Ron added, "though he _is_ going to come under pressure to put more gold into the Auror department in case it's needed. The news will help politically, apparently," he shrugged, not really understanding what his father had been talking about.

"Come, let's 'ave some fun," Fleur smiled, not really wanting to dwell on what they'd experienced; Harry took her hand and they joined the makeshift dancefloor.

 _Great Hall,_

 _Saturday, 25_ _th_ _June 1994_.

Harry had made liberal use of his invisibility cloak to smuggle his new trunk and most of his belongings into Fleur's room in the carriage, as they would be leaving the next day. He left his uniform and Dudley's cast-offs in his old trunk, which remained by his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, so as to not arouse suspicions. Minister Fudge was sitting with the staff at the day's feast (Bagman was nowhere to be seen; rumour has it he'd fled, owing a large amount of gold to the goblins) while Sirius was sitting with the three champions and the Diggorys and Delacours, who had invited him to return to France with them to await Harry's arrival.

"We are here tonight," Fudge began, rising to his feet once the main course had been finished, "to award the Triwizard Cup winnings. As most of you know, there was an… extraordinary ending to the tournament and the three youngsters sitting before us," he gestured at them, "not only beat the three tasks but also defied an escaped Death Eater to prevent the return of the Dark Wizard, _You-know-who_." There was little reaction to this, save a few scowls from the Slytherin table directed towards Harry and Fleur, as the story was all over magical Britain by now. "The Ministry had a difficult decision to make, in how to divide the 1,000 Galleons between three winners. Thankfully Mr Potter and his friends solved that for us; they will each receive 300 Galleons, with the remainder being generously donated to St Mungo's Hospital. For this I thank them."

Most of the school rose to its feet to applaud the trio; Harry could see Malfoy sat mulishly in his seat, but was past caring about him, figuring that he would likely never see him again after today.

No discussions on the move were made in front of the Diggorys, Gabbi promising to see Harry soon was taken as a natural statement from a star-struck little girl to her big sister's boyfriend. While she still didn't blush she was practically glowing as Harry swept her into a hug.

 _Deputy Headmistress's Office,_

 _Sunday, 26_ _th_ _June 1994_.

The day had arrived. Harry, after saying goodbye to Ron (and leaving notes for him to give the other 4th year Gryffindor boys) had used his cloak to sneak into the carriage. Maxime handed McGonagall a pile of parchment, most of which pertained to the events of the year and inter-school issues (including, for fun, a formal complaint against the treatment Fleur had suffered from Malfoy and the lack of response from the Hogwarts staff). Underneath this paper was Harry's transfer form, with Hermione's a couple of sheets further down. Maxime was in the carriage before McGonagall saw Harry's offending piece of parchment; she hurried to the floo.

"Albus! Harry Potter has transferred to Beauxbatons!"

"What?" the Headmaster asked his deputy in disbelief.

"The completed form was in the bundle of papers that Olympe just gave me."

"Meet me at the Fat Lady's portrait; we'll talk to the lad about this. I know he and Miss Delacour are courting but even so, moving to France and leaving us? He can't be allowed to do that! It would be a huge blow to Hogwarts." He didn't want to say that Potter needed to be where he could keep an eye on him until Voldemort's eventual return.

The two teachers arrived in Gryffindor Tower and saw Harry's trunk was still there. They relaxed, assuming that he hadn't left with the school (the carriage had departed by now) and Dumbledore sent McGonagall to find him while he contacted Fudge about ensuring that the transfer couldn't happen by ensuring that Harry was unable to leave Britain.

By the time they thought to ask Ron or Hermione, the Hogwarts Express was about to leave and they realised that Harry was already out of the country; it would be time to ask Fudge to demand that France return Harry.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Ron asked as they claimed a carriage.

"Yes," she sighed, "it's just they're all in such a flap over Harry, none of them seem to have realised, or at least they don't care, that I'm going there as well."

 _Delacour Home,_

 _Lille, France_

Harry woke up feeling refreshed; it had been a long trip back to France before they took a Portkey back to Fleur's home. Meeting up with Sirius there was nice and none of the Delacours batted an eyelid when Fleur took him and his belongings up to her room. They celebrated his escape, their survival in the task and a multitude of other things by a tender session of love-making before falling into an exhausted sleep together.

"I'm going house hunting today," Sirius told him over breakfast. "Apparently there's a little place in the next street which would be perfect for us, it's close enough to here," he smirked at his godson, "so you could Portkey to and from school and it's not too expensive. I can easily afford it and then I can look at cleaning out the old Black house in London and selling that."

"Do you need any help with that?" he offered; Sirius grimaced.

"I wouldn't want you going back to Britain; they're likely in uproar over your escape."

"I was actually thinking about Dobby…" A loud crack was heard.

"Master Harry called Dobby?" the elf asked; he rolled his eyes.

"Dobby, could you help Sirius clean his old house and get it in a saleable condition?"

"Dobby can do that," he declared enthusiastically before talking to Sirius and making plans to deal with the property, including receiving warnings about the many dark objects ensconced within it.

Sirius left after breakfast, along with Fleur's parents, to look at the property he wanted to buy. Gabrielle was visiting a friend (at Fleur's insistence) so the young couple were alone.

"Come, I weel show you around," she took his hand and gave him a tour of the areas of the house he hadn't been able to see the previous evening before taking him outside.

"You have a private pool?" he asked in surprise; she smiled.

"Oui, we should sweem."

"I don't have any swimming trunks," he pointed out; she moved very close to him.

"Good," she whispered, before removing her T-shirt and shorts and diving naked into the pool. Harry watched the blonde beauty surface, wet skin glistening in the morning sun and, as she smiled at him he stripped off and joined her.

After casting a quick sunscreen charm on them both (though she said once they were out of the pool she was sure they would find the muggle way a lot more fun; he agreed with that), Fleur spent the morning teaching him to swim properly, showing him the stroke, helping him with the basics before constantly retreating from his reach and forcing him to swim to her to try and catch her before swimming off again, though her favourite part of the lesson seemed to be demonstrating and teaching him the backstroke; Harry certainly seemed to enjoy that as well.

As Fleur took a short rest, eyes closed and enjoying the sun on her wet upper body, Harry floated close by before splashing a faceful of water over her; he laughed as she spluttered and then swam off; Fleur easily caught him (she was a much better swimmer and he wasn't trying _that_ hard to hide) and steered him to the side of the pool, which she pinned him against before blasting him with her allure and kissing him as a "punishment". As she reached between his legs and guided him inside her, Harry, enjoying surrendering to her allure, felt confident that this was going to be the best summer of his life so far.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you so much for reading this little story; I hope you have all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. PD**


	4. Chapter 2a - The Harmony One-shot

**Hello everyone and welcome to a little 'bonus' from this story. This is not part of the main story but an alternative to chapter 2, dealing with a partnership other than Harry and Fleur.**

 **In the interests of shameless self-promotion I'd also like to draw your attention to a couple of new stories I've just published the opening chapter for - _Harry Potter and the Veela Nation_ which is set in an AU environment and _Harry Potter: The Beauxbatons Years_ which is the sequel to the main "Grateful Veela" story. If you've enjoyed this story so far then please check them out.**

* * *

Chapter 2a – the Harmony one-shot

 _Hogwarts School Grounds_

 _Monday, 28_ _th_ _February 1994_.

Hermione hugged herself as she looked around the dark, chilly grounds; her ire could only warm her for so long in the bleak, wintry weather as she hunted her prey. Finally she spotted his silhouette, near the shore of the Black Lake, and stormed towards him.

"Harry!" she cried as she approached him; he jumped violently at her shout and turned to face her.

"Oh, hi Hermione," she noticed as she approached, and her eyes adjusted to the darkness, that he still wore a rather goofy grin.

"I've been looking for you since the end of class. Aren't you could standing out here?"

"I hadn't noticed," he replied honestly.

"Hmph, I suppose _she_ did that to you," the girl snarked.

Harry looked questioningly at her but said nothing. Hermione conjured some of her bluebell flames in an effort to warm herself; they also supplied enough light for her to glare at him properly, though Harry had to close his eyes due to the rapid increase in the light level.

"Fleur told me what you two did all weekend," she added hotly.

"Really?" he opened his eyes in surprise, immediately regretting having done so as the fire-light stung them; he wasn't ashamed of the weekend's activity but didn't particularly want it broadcasting all over the school – and hadn't expected that Fleur would do that.

"Yes, she _may_ have thought you already told me," the bushy-haired witch added guiltily.

Harry turned to face her, eyes beginning to adapt to the light. "What's _really_ bothering you, Hermione?" he asked.

" _You slept with her!_ " she hissed.

"I did," he agreed. "She said she wanted to thank me for saving her sister's life in the second task," he gestured to the rippling lake, "and felt that teaching me uh… 'certain skills' would be a way to make us even."

Hermione forced herself to bite back a laugh as Harry floundered a little with his explanation, though talk of 'skills' left her intrigued; she was a fifteen-year-old girl after all. Something else was troubling her too. "Why are you stood out here all alone?" she asked.

"Thinking," he replied simply, lapsing into silence as he looked out over the dark water again. Hermione shivered as a gust of wind hit them; she tentatively slipped her cold hand into Harry's for warmth. To her surprise he barely reacted at all, tightening his grip just a fraction; she had expected him to pull away in surprise.

"What were you thinking about?" she asked eventually.

"Something Fleur said… afterwards," he gestured with his free hand. "She said that, while her being a Veela meant the _physical_ side of what we did was always going to be uh… tough to better," Hermione sniggered involuntarily, "the _emotional_ side, the… the _love-making_ I suppose," the witch was now thankful for the darkness around them as she began to blush furiously; from what she could see of Harry by the light of her flames he wasn't blushing, "would be even better with the one I truly love." He turned to her, green eyes looking directly into brown. "You know me, Hermione, you know my story, love is something that was in short supply for me growing up, so I guess I'm trying to figure out _who_ I might be able to love."

"Oh," she was taken aback by him thinking of something so deep. "Maybe I can help you with that?" she blurted out, "just not here. It's getting cold."

He cocked his head. "I really hadn't noticed," he admitted. "Come on, let's go inside then." Neither made any attempt to separate their hands until they entered the Great Hall and Ron lifted his head from his dinner and stared at them questioningly.

"Oh, we were outside," Hermione explained hastily, "and it was cold so I was trying to warm my hand."

The redhead shrugged and returned his attention to his dinner. Harry, who hadn't yet eaten, took an empty plate and began to fill it before the house-elves started removing things. Hermione, who _had_ eaten, sat patiently while he ate, reading one of her ever-present textbooks, much to Ron's disdainful amusement.

"Fancy a game of chess later, mate?" he asked when he was finally finished with dessert.

" _Later_ , sure," Harry agreed, "but I'll be going to the library first." Hermione suppressed her astonishment at the statement; Ron could not. "I want to start planning for the task," he elaborated.

"But that's _months_ away," his freckled sidekick protested.

"Yes but I'm in the lead," Harry enthused. "Now I'm this close I want to _win_."

Ron could understand that but couldn't bring himself to spend time in the library. Wishing him luck he headed back to Gryffindor Tower alone.

"You're starting preparations _already_?" Hermione asked. "You don't even know what the task is!" she pointed out.

"No, but you said you would help me with my… other problem," he reminded her, "and what better place for you to help me than your favourite haunt?"

The brunette witch sniggered. "Let's go then," she urged him once he'd finished eating.

 _Library_

"So," Harry began once they'd acquired a seat in the farthest corner of the library (just outside the door to the Restricted Section), "where did you want to start?"

"Well," his friend began, "why don't we start with what you look for in a girl?"

"Because I don't know what I look for?" he replied with a grin; Hermione rolled her eyes.

"There must be _something_ , Harry," her tone was laced with exasperation. "Let's look at the ball. You asked Cho and then asked Parvati. Why did you pick them?"

"Well I asked Cho because I think she's pretty; I first noticed that when we played Ravenclaw in the Quidditch last year," he replied. "When she said she already had a date I uh… I got desperate," he admitted. "I asked Parvati because she was there really."

"So you _don't_ think she's pretty?" Hermione challenged with a smirk.

"No, she is," he insisted, knowing enough to appreciate that any other answer could potentially land him in a whole heap of trouble, "but I… I dunno," he shrugged in defeat, "I think I got fixated on Cho and then when she was taken I didn't really have a Plan B."

"So now what?" Hermione pressed. Harry closed his eyes and sighed in frustration; they snapped open again as his mind's eye was filled with a picture. Hermione was looking at him and he tried hard to keep his expression neutral.

"What?" she asked, sensing something had affected him.

"I just… something struck me."

"What was it?" she asked excitedly; he closed his eyes again.

"Can you give me a minute?" he asked. "I want to just see if I can figure something out."

Hermione sat impatiently while Harry, eyes still closed, seemed to be working some things out. After a few seconds she got bored and retrieved a book from her bag. She'd read a couple of pages before Harry opened his eyes.

Opening his eyes, the first thing Harry saw was Hermione in her usual habitat; sat in the library and reading a book. While her hair wasn't as sleek as it had been for the Yule Ball and her robes were nowhere near as flattering as the dress robes she'd worn that night, he could still equate the belle of the ball with the witch sat before him. But it was something else that held his attention; thinking on their adventures she had given him unflinching and almost unquestioning support with whatever they'd come across. They worked together so, so well and this year especially she was the _one_ constant, the person by his side throughout everything and the _only_ person to believe him when he denied entering the tournament. She was beautiful, smart and would be by his side no matter what.

"Hermione," he began cautiously; she glanced up expectantly from her book, "would you go to Hogsmeade with me on the next weekend – I mean, as a _date_ ," he blurted out the rest of this. His friend just stared at him open-mouthed for a few seconds, long enough for Harry to get uncomfortable. "I mean, if you don't want to or… oh, of course there's Krum," he realised. "You know what, just forget it, I'm sorry," he got up abruptly and fled the library at top speed, much to Madam Pince's disapproval.

Hermione sat there watching him go as she tried to process what had just happened. Harry had asked her out! _Harry_ had asked _her_ out… and she had sat there like a spare part… and then he'd run off at top speed, probably feeling that he's made a total fool of himself. She stood up and put her book away before the thought struck her – how _should_ she respond to this?

 _Gryffindor Tower_

"Mate? Are you ok?" Ron asked as Harry stumbled into the Common Room.

"I'm fine, Ron," he replied distractedly. "Do you still want to play chess?"

Ron nodded; they set up the board and had made their first few moves when Hermione burst into the room. The redhead saw Harry look around before snapping his head back to the board, staring at it with _far_ too much concentration; he gave the newcomer a questioning look before making his next move. Hermione took a nervous seat nearby and watched them play, though it soon became obvious that her presence was having a detrimental effect on Harry's play; his face was flushed and his focus was all over the place, leading to Ron winning inside 20 moves.

"Never mind. Another game?" he smiled broadly.

"Can it wait a minute?" Hermione asked in pleading tones. "I'd like a quick word with Harry."

Ron shrugged, having no reason to decline; Harry stood reluctantly and followed her to a secluded corner.

"I'm sorry Harry I…" Hermione began; he cut her off.

"It's ok, really," he assured her. "I sprung it on you without thinking." Then he gave a hollow chuckle. "I'm making a habit of being shot down by girls who are seeing other wizards." Then he smiled wryly. "Hey, at least it beats being shot down by _single_ witches. Still friends?" he finished hopefully.

"Actually, I'm not seeing Viktor. We had a nice time but it was just a Ball. Honestly, the thing he'd miss the most?" She shook her head before grasping his hand firmly. "I wanted to apologise for just sitting there like a lump; I just couldn't believe you'd ever ask me what you did. But," he took a deep breath, "I would _love_ to go with you to Hogsmeade on a date."

Harry gave a genuine smile. "Wow that's… that's brilliant."

Hermione grinned back. "Yes, we just need to decide what to tell Ron; it could get awkward as the _three_ of us usually go together."

"Well it was just you and me earlier in the year," Harry countered, "back when he didn't believe me. Maybe he can meet us later when we go and see Sirius?"

"That could work," she agreed.

"I'll make sure he's in a good mood before I tell him," Harry promised, "I'll let him win a couple more games."

"Sure," she teased, "you'll _let_ him win."

Harry stuck his tongue out at her.

Ron was stunned when Harry delivered his news. He didn't seem _upset_ , just very, very surprised (not least as he assumed, like Harry had, that Hermione and Krum were a couple). The advantage of this was, despite his chess set's best efforts and advice, Ron was suitably distracted for Harry to actually beat him.

"I thought you were going to let him win," Hermione reminded him as Ron trudged off to bed, more upset about losing at chess than his two friends going on a date.

"Oh yeah," the boy-who-lived grinned guiltily.

 _Saturday, 5_ _th_ _March 1994_

To say Hermione woke up would imply that she had slept. That hadn't really been the case since a troubling thought had struck her the previous night. The worry had led to the young witch tossing and turning the night away; finally, around 6:30 in the morning, she gave up and stumbled downstairs to the Common Room where she slumped onto one of the settees by the fire. Thanks to Dobby the fire burst to life as the girl yawned, curled up and closed her eyes.

It only felt like moments later that she was being shaken awake; she opened her eyes and found herself staring into Harry's.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"What time is it?" she mumbled by way of response.

"Around half past seven."

"Oh," she sat up, "looks like…" she caught herself, "it's time for breakfast." She stood before realising she still wore her nightdress. "Let me just get changed then we can go down together?"

Harry took a seat on the recently vacated settee and waited. Around two minutes later Hermione returned, dressed but still not looking, to his eyes, like she was ready to face the day. Nonetheless she took his hand (as had become customary over the last few weeks) and they headed to the Great Hall together.

As usual they had to contend with snide comments from the Slytherin table; looking to the staff to intervene had proven pointless so they simply ignored the jibes. Harder to ignore was the permanent scowl on Krum's face when he saw them; Hermione had spoken privately to the Bulgarian in the library but he clearly remained extremely disappointed with the situation, though he _had_ wished her every happiness.

Clearly he could also see that the girl was looking less than 100%; the international seeker made his way across the hall and stood directly behind the fledgling couple.

"Are you alright, Herm-own-ninny?" he asked in a gruff voice; she started a little and turned to face him, as did Harry.

"I'm fine, Viktor, thank you for asking," she replied calmly.

"You look tired and distracted," he observes.

"It's nothing," she insisted, shaking her head. Krum looked unconvinced and threw Harry a suspicious glare before retreating to his table.

"Are you _sure_ you want to go on our date?" Harry asked fearfully. "Krum's right, Hermione, you don't look your usual self."

"I'm _fine_ , Harry," she replied forcefully. "Let's just finish breakfast and then we can go."

"Ok," he surrendered before looking cautiously around the hall. He had hoped to spy Viktor, to see what he was doing or whether he was watching but instead caught Fleur's eye. She winked at him and gave a surreptitious thumbs-up, which he appreciated; he smiled at the French witch.

 _The Three Broomsticks,_

 _Hogsmeade_

"Ok," Harry sighed, "it's clear that this was a bad idea. At least we tried," he added in a toned of defeat.

"What do you mean?" his date asked.

"You've barely said two words all day and you don't look happy. I don't know _much_ about the subject but I'm sure this isn't normal behaviour for a date."

"You're right, I'm sorry," she conceded. "You were right about me being… well about me not being myself today. I didn't sleep very well last night."

"Nerves?" he asked in surprise. "I was nervous about our date but not to that extent, I mean, we've known each other for ages…"

"Not about the _date_ itself," she clarified, "more about… well something hit me last night. You slept with Fleur. I don't mean to throw it in your face," she hurriedly added as he opened his mouth to retort, "but I just wondered if you'd be comparing me to her. And how _can_ I compare to her? She's a Veela, she's perfect! And I thought… I thought you might _expect_ us to… you know, _do that_ as well."

Harry palmed his face; she shook his head behind his hand. "Hermione," he began firmly. "You're my best friend in the whole world. There's _nobody_ I trust more than you and I wouldn't do _anything_ to jeopardise that trust or our friendship. Yes Fleur gave me some er… tuition," Hermione smiled in spite of herself, "but I'm not looking for you and I to do that today. _If_ we decide we want to have an 'official' relationship then _that_ will come in time, when _we're both_ ready for it to. As for comparing you to Fleur," Hermione raised her eyebrows and saw Harry visibly pale a couple of shades as he realised that whatever he said could and would be used against him; she sniggered as the tension left her, both due to his earlier words and the hole he seemed to have dug himself, "I'm not going to lie to you, she's beautiful, but so are you." Hermione scoffed. "I'm serious, you looked _amazing_ at the Yule Ball."

"And today?" she challenged lightly, hoping to make him squirm a little more.

"Well your hair's a little more… normal," he began; she nodded, having not used the Sleek-Easy on it it remained bushy and barely manageable. "Your clothes are nicer than your robes but don't flatter you the way your dress robes did," he thought that sounded diplomatic enough; Hermione seemed to agree as she hadn't gone for her wand, "and you _are_ very pretty, something that your smaller front teeth really help to bring out."

He let out a sigh of relief that he seemed to have talked his way out of too much trouble, something that caused Hermione to chuckle. "It looks like I was worrying over nothing," she commented. "Thanks Harry," she reached across the table and squeezed his hand while taking another sip of her butterbeer.

The afternoon went far better for the two of them as they walked hand-in-hand around the village, spending far too much in Honeydukes and Harry picking up a couple of things in Zonko's (causing Hermione to roll her eyes, though Harry made it up to her with a trip to _Tomes and Scrolls_ where she was able to browse to her heart's content). All too soon it was time to head to the Shrieking Shack to meet Ron.

"So I suppose this is the end of the date," Harry observed as they left the book shop.

"I suppose so."

"Could we… could we do it again?" he asked hopefully; Hermione pretended to look thoughtful for a moment and then smiled.

"I'm sure we will."

Harry's heart soared in his chest; he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

"Is that the best you can do?" she asked saucily. "It looks like you need more lessons from Fleur."

Harry then placed a hand on each of her shoulders and kissed her on the lips. It was a chaste kiss but long enough to leave Hermione with eyes closed and hoping for more, one day.

"Better," she grinned, taking his hand again as they walked to meet their friend before going to see Sirius.

 _Quidditch Pitch,_

 _Tuesday, 5_ _th_ _April 1994_

The four champions left the Quidditch pitch, each lost in their own thoughts. Harry and Cedric were most indignant about the hedged growing on the surface, while Fleur was busy pondering spells that would best help her to solve the maze and hopefully catch up the others; she was once again ruing her failure against the Gryndilows that seemed to have put her out of contention for the cup, although it had led to an enjoyable weekend with Harry Potter, she smiled to herself at the thought.

The youngest champion seemed happy to her eyes; he was definitely rather relaxed around the young lady in whose company he was always seen. Fleur could see the love developing and strengthening between them and was happy for them both; she hoped that the young witch would come to appreciate what she had taught him.

The last champion was brooding; Fleur watched from a distance as Krum intercepted Harry.

"Could I haf a vord?" he demanded before seizing Harry's arm and leading him towards the Forbidden Forest. Fleur glanced at Cedric, who nodded to her, and they stealthily crept towards the other two; Fleur cast a disillusionment charm on herself before, at his whispered request, she did the same to Cedric.

"We've been friends for ages and I realised how much she means to me," they heard Harry saying, his voice rising as the Bulgarian glared at him. "I _did_ try to back off because I thought you two were a couple but she said you weren't, that it was nothing more than a date to the Yule Ball."

Cedric was shocked as Krum raised his wand, pointing it directly at Harry; before he could react Fleur fired a stunner, dropping the Bulgarian where he stood. Harry's wand was in his hand and he was looking around nervously.

"'Arry, it is me," the French Veela called; the fourth year relaxed his stance slightly before Fleur dropped the Disillusionment. "Cedric is 'ere also," she looked around and then shrugged, "somewhere."

Diggory chose that moment to cast a _Lumos_ spell; Fleur giggled and walked over to the light source before reversing his Disillusionment charm as well.

"Thanks for helping me out there," Harry told her; she gave him a smile and a nod.

" _De rien, mon cher_."

In his office at the school, Barty Crouch Junior, still disguised as Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody watched the scene unfold on Harry's map. He watched the three depart, leaving the stricken, unconscious form of Krum behind (Fleur would enervate him from a safe distance). He frowned as his non-magical eye saw another name slowly approaching the seeker from within the forest. To his surprise that name was _also_ Bartemius Crouch. He hurried towards the scene as fast as the retired Auror's body would allow to deal with the unwelcome intruder.

 _Friday, 24_ _th_ _June 1994_

Something was wrong. That was apparent the moment she saw a flash from within the maze. Two sets of red sparks had flown into the sky earlier in the evening; the unconscious bodies of Fleur and Krum had subsequently been retrieved. Hermione got out of the stands and rushed to the entrance of the maze; although he had no idea why she was so agitated, Ron had followed.

"Professor Dumbledore," the witch called as she approached; the Headmaster turned to face the two students.

"Miss Granger? Mr Weasley?"

"What's happened? I saw a flash of light from the middle of the maze. Does that mean it's over? If so, where are Harry and Cedric?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "You had a better vantage point than me from the stands but someone taking the cup _should_ have brought them here, to the front of the maze."

"Get some brooms," she told Ron.

"What?" he asked, bewildered.

"Get. Some. Brooms," she repeated in a slow hiss.

"Miss Granger? What do you have in mind?" Professor McGonagall had joined the trio.

"I'm going to fly over the maze and see if Harry and Cedric are still in there. If they are then there's nothing to worry about. If not…"

"I'm afraid we can't allow anyone to interfere with the integrity of the tournament," Ludo Bagman added his opinion.

"I _won't_ interfere," she insisted, "I just want to know if they're still in there or not. Ron, _brooms now_."

The redhead acquiesced and rushed to the Quidditch locker, collecting a couple of the school brooms; they weren't brilliant but were the best available and would do the job.

"Thank you," Hermione kicked off uneasily but determinedly and hovered just above the level of the hedges; Ron joined her a moment later.

"Wow, you _must_ be worried to be up here," he observed.

" _Yes_ , Ronald," she confirmed, determined not to look down before she absolutely had to, "now, you check the right hand side, I'll do the left. _Just_ see if they're there." Both students ignored calls for them to return to the ground.

Hermione really, _really_ hated flying; it was testament to her nerves and her feelings for Harry that she flew as high as she did and as fast as the aged broom would allow as she searched for any signs of him or Cedric, trying to ignore the thought of how far she would fall if she slipped off the broomstick. She saw the skrewt, a sphinx and several other creatures before reaching the centre of the maze; the plinth stood empty just beyond the recovering acromantula.

"Turn _back_ Ron," she called, knowing her friend's arachnophobia and bad experience with the giant spiders in the past. "The cup's gone and I don't see them!" Just to be sure she swept over the rest of the maze before joining Ron and the senior staff again.

"Mr Weasley says the cup was gone and so were the two students," Professor Dumbledore addressed her as she landed.

"That's right," she confirmed. " _Where_ are they? WHERE'S HARRY?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," Dumbledore admitted. "Professor Moody was responsible for taking the cup into the maze," he added slowly and thoughtfully before turning to his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who was, inexplicably, smiling broadly – a smile wiped from his face as a re-enervated Fleur stunned him from behind.

"Miss Delacour?" Professor McGonagall asked in shock.

"Monsieur Dumblydoor said zat 'e took ze cup into ze maze. 'E should know where zey are but 'e said nussing. Now you can use ze Veritaserum on 'eem to find out."

Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Severus, fetch some for us," he commanded; the Potions professor nodded and headed to the castle, robes billowing behind him.

In the stands, Colin Creevey put his camera down (he'd taken several photos since Hermione and Ron had rushed to ground level) and turned to his first-year brother Dennis. "Finally," he said, "something interesting happened that we could actually watch!"

It was all so typical, Hermione lamented, that something should go wrong just when things were going well. Her relationship with Harry was progressing nicely; they kissed _very_ often (she had to suppress a smile at the thought given the current situation) and she felt herself falling for him more and more each day. He seemed to be doing likewise and, while he hadn't pressured her at all or even raised the possibility of them sleeping together, she now found herself not exactly opposed to the idea.

Snape's return coincided with a flash just outside the maze. With a cry of "Harry!" Hermione raced over to see her boyfriend clutching both the cup and Cedric. She pulled him into a hug and he dropped both the cup and Cedric's arm before breaking down in tears; it was only then that the others, who had joined the scene just behind the witch, realised that the popular Hufflepuff was dead.

 _Hospital Wing_

Crouch Junior's revelation of the plan (under Veritaserum) in front of the Minister had been a horrifying event; Harry's confirmation that Voldemort's rebirth had occurred forced Fudge to act, listening to Dumbledore's advice and agreeing to finally strengthen the Auror department in preparation for the coming war, while both Harry and Crouch identifying Peter Pettigrew's involvement saw Cornelius agree to rescind the kiss on sight order for Sirius. Padfoot's subsequent arrival saw the Minister question Sirius under Veritaserum before formally clearing him of any and all charges.

"Now what?" Hermione asked fearfully; it had been a harrowing ordeal for Harry and he now sat, goblet of Dreamless Sleep potion by his bedside and ready to take it. Everyone else had left but Hermione argued, and Dumbledore concurred, that Harry needed his girlfriend by his side to help him through this. He, himself, was talking to Fudge about further measures that needed taking (which would include questioning Harry under truth serum the next day to confirm the identity of the Death Eaters he had seen in the graveyard).

"Well after term ends Sirius and I go to wherever he lives and begin our new lives," her boyfriend said as lightly as he could. "Beyond that? We have to hope Fudge and the Ministry are up to the fight ahead. Voldemort's only just back so maybe with the information I can give them they can do something to slow him down so that they have time to prepare before he makes his move." His eyes began to well with tears again; Hermione leaned over and picked up the goblet.

"Take your potion, Harry," she gave it to him. "You need to rest."

"Will you stay?" he asked fearfully.

"All night and beyond," she insisted. Suitably mollified, Harry drained about half of the potion and settled back on the bed. Hermione took the goblet from him, putting it back where she'd found it, kissed him and lay down next to him. Once his eyes closed he was almost instantly asleep; she gently took his glasses off and set them on the bedside table next to the goblet before curling up next to him. While it was nice to cuddle into him she really wished _she_ had some of that potion as well as she was sure that her own dreams would be far from pleasant this night.

Hermione had had a better night's sleep than she'd feared. Cuddling Harry had seemed to keep her nightmares at bay and she'd only woken up when she heard his rapid, shallow breathing. She looked around and saw that the infirmary was still dark.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, "I woke up and suddenly everything came flooding back to me."

"It's ok Harry," she assured him, hugging him closer, "you've been through hell; it was always going to affect you. Do you have any more of your potion to take."

"Yes," he confirmed. At her behest he drank it and was soon asleep again; she pulled closer to him and drifted off again herself.

 _Headmaster's Office,_

 _Saturday, 25_ _th_ _June 1994_

Hermione stayed with Harry (with his and the Headmaster's consent) while he gave his interview. Fudge had, with some reluctance, immediately given the order for the arrests of Malfoy, Avery, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle – all identified by Harry as being in the graveyard in Death Eater regalia when Volemort's rebirth had occurred.

"Professor," Harry asked, "what happens now? I mean, Sirius has been cleared so I can go and live with him, can't I?"

"Ah," Dumbledore responded, "you can indeed, once he has a place that is habitable. Sirius," he continued at Harry's questioning look, "is the last of the Blacks and his home had stood empty for some time. He and I visited last night and it really is not fit for company. He is going to try and get it clean, with the help of the rather…" he glanced at Hermione, "troubled Black house elf before you leave your aunt's house. So I would ask you to go there and Sirius will collect you once his home is ready."

Harry nodded reluctantly. He didn't want to return to Privet Drive at all but could at least see light at the end of the tunnel.

"I'll come and visit you Harry," Hermione promised, "and you can come to our house once or twice before then."

"Ah Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted, "if you two plan on moving about the country, I must ask that you do so safely, ideally asking an adult witch or wizard to escort you. With Voldemort back Harry especially could be in grave danger out in the open."

"I'll send Hedwig to Sirius when you want me to come over and he can come with me," Harry suggested; Hermione nodded.

"Very well. Enjoy your summer," Dumbledore dismissed them.

 _Platform 9 ¾,_

 _Kings Cross Station, London_

"So," Harry turned to his girlfriend as they approached the barrier.

"So," she repeated.

"I guess this is it for a few days."

"Yes, you can meet my mum and dad at least and I'll get permission for you to come over. Then once Sirius has his place ready…"

"You can come visit," he finished and they shared a smile. "I wouldn't wish the Dursleys on anybody so it may be better if you don't visit me there. I wouldn't want you getting in trouble for cursing them."

Hermione gave a chuckle at that before throwing her arms around her boyfriend and kissing him passionately, eliciting a number of cheers and wolf whistles from the students passing through the barrier.

"Are you ready to meet my parents?" she asked with a smirk.

"Let's do it," he agreed and hand-in-hand they passed the barrier and back into the muggle world.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you for reading. I'm sure most of you expected it to be an M-rated chapter, in truth so did I until I wrote it and their relationship progressing that far never seemed to quite happen in what I thought would be a logical and satisfactory way. As we saw towards the end they're getting close so I'm sure Harry WOULD get to put his lessons to good use in the near future with Hermione. PD  
**


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